#generally speaking i have like a large frame

[vamptastic]

occasionally i forget that i am a fucking manlet but life has a way of reminding you

[kngrose]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐈'𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃...

imagine a situationship with sevika

WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, drinking, bi! reader but wlw, eventual smut, modern au

from roselí. ᡣ𐭩 : i have way too many thoughts about this— this will have multiple parts. see part two here. ^^

It wasn’t supposed to happen. You didn’t plan for it. But somewhere along the line, something changed. Your relationship had gotten too… comfortable. At first, the changes were subtle; He wasn’t saying anything outlandish, nothing to make you question your relationship.

But there were small instances, ones where he’d forget plans you made, or when he’d linger on his phone a little longer than usual in your company. You told yourself it was nothing; he might just be a little more stressed than usual– maybe there’s something personal he’s going through.

But as time passed, the pattern became clearer. Conversations that used to flow easily were now strained, almost forced, filled with half-hearted responses. He didn't pick up on the little things anymore; your new manicure or your haircut you had gotten to perfectly frame your face, in hopes that he would notice.

He wouldn’t be as passionate anymore, the fire he once held slowly dimming before your eyes. It was disheartening. The spark that once kept your relationship alive is fading, and you're left with a gnawing feeling of emptiness that you can’t quite explain.

And then there was her.

It wasn’t anything too large, the event. Just a kickback amongst some of your shared friends and some extras they’d invited. You’d tagged along with your boyfriend who’d long forgotten about you, chopping it up with a few of the guys on the couch. You felt a sour twinge in your gut as you sat beside him; this is the most enthusiasm he’s shown in weeks.

You’d noticed her in your solitude; shooting you glances across the room. Similar to you, she hadn’t said much of anything, just idly man-spread on the neighboring couch, red cup held loosely in her hand. You’ve never seen her before… you wonder whose friend she is.

You can't help but return the glances– look at her. Her broad shoulders, her thighs, her hands decorated with rings. The piercings that decorate her face. Those eyes, assessing you as she circles the rim of her cup with an index finger, a little smirk forming on her dark lips.

How could you help it– when she’s just radiating with unspoken confidence? It’s captivating, drawing you in like a deer in headlights. There’s a sharpness in her eyes that unsettles you, and yet, something about it excites you. She’s not like anyone you’ve ever seen.

You realized later that she was just waiting. Waiting for your boyfriend to excuse himself so she could move in. It’ll make you wonder later, how much of this she premeditated. It doesn’t take her long to approach you when he leaves, sliding into the spot next to you curtly, smirking as she meets your eyes. She’s beautiful up close.

She’s looking at you with that calculating gaze, making it clear she’s intrigued. She scans your face up and down, “Like your hair… suits you.”

Her voice was deep, commanding, like she had the power to bend the world to her will. You feel your cheeks warm under her gaze, touching your hair softly. “Thank you.” You manage to retort, embarrassingly glancing away. When you shot your eyes back to hers your breath got caught in your chest, her gaze is unwavering. A chuckle rumbles from her throat, “You’re cute.”

But it's not just the look—it’s the way she speaks to you. It’s amazing how easily she manages to fluster you, it’s effortless. Sevika, you learn that her name is, charms you with her dry humor and college stories, entertaining you the entirety of the night.

She tells you about all of the petty fights she’s been in, and all of her run ins with the police. Some of which are so descriptive you have to wonder if she’s being generous with the details. All the while she’s charming you up, placing a hand on your knee, then to your thigh, drawing small circles. You take note of the way she seems to fixate on your hair, constantly moving it from your face or twisting the strands between her fingers.

The flirtation feels different—darker. Her voice rumbles with a kind of quiet power, and when her hand brushes against yours, it lingers just a little too long. You want to pull away, but instead, you stay. The tension builds, and despite your better judgment, a part of you is drawn to it. To her.

You wish you could go back in time and slap yourself. You knew better than to get yourself alone with this girl, this freakishly charismatic, freakishly, randomly attractive girl. But you let her lead you away to a secluded hallway of the house, her excuse being the music was too loud.

And she continued conversing with you, leaning against the wall and swallowing down the rest of the cup. She huffed out something between a scoff and a laugh, “You a nanny or somethin’?” You shot her a confused look in response. She looked down, nodding her head towards the red cup in your hand. “You’re babysitting.” 

“Oh, this…” You mutter, swirling the drink around plainly. “Not much of a drinker.” You notice the roll of her eyes as she pushes herself off the wall and your breath hitches as she closes in on you. She pulls the cup from your hand, raising a large hand to your chin to tilt your head back. You barely manage to sputter, “What are you doing–!” before she orders you to, “Open,” nudging your chin softly.

You lock eyes with her for the umpteenth time, her eyes filled with something different this time around. You hesitantly part your lips, allowing her to pour the rest of the content into your mouth. There’s a soft groan leaving her mouth as she watches some of it spill from the corner of your lips down your chin.

The way her eyes lingered on your lips made your heart race. You were suddenly aware of how close you were, how her scent filled your senses, how her gaze felt like a slow burn.

You don’t say anything, but you can feel the heat between you both, the pull that’s been growing stronger with each passing second. Before you know it, she’s kissing you—rough and urgent, her hands gripping your hips with a hunger that matches the storm brewing inside you. Her kiss is overwhelming, like a fire that consumes you whole. You melt into it, into her, not thinking about the consequences, not thinking about him.

The moment ends just as quickly as it began, but the aftershocks are impossible to ignore. You stand there, breathless, disoriented, and yet, there’s a part of you that doesn’t regret it. It feels raw, real, and alive in a way you haven’t felt in a long time.

You pull away from Sevika, your chest tight with confusion and shame. But Sevika just watches you, unfazed. There’s no sympathy in her gaze, in fact, all you could register was a sly smirk on her lips. Sevika moves to stand close to you, her presence overwhelming, wrapping a hand around your throat, "What's holding you back?" she mumbles against your lips.

And in that moment, you realize that nothing is holding you back. You’ve already made your choice without even knowing it.

There’s no turning back now.  

please let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist to be notified everytime i post, xx

taglist: @opropheticsoul

[lumiambrose]

✰ full house

the devils month - day thirtyone

featuring: jing yuan x den heng il x blade x f!reader

summary: the general's "old friends" pay him a visit, where they get to meet you, his cute little toy for the first time.

tags: smut, foursome/gangbang, choking, spitting, implied squirting, face fucking, praise, degredation, p in v, finishing inside, triple penetration, dan heng has two cocks fight me.

wc: 3.5k

your arrangement with the general is quite simple. he makes sure you don’t get drafted into the cloud knights, despite your family's wishes, and in return, you keep him company. you see, being general is quite a straining duty, and therefore the jing yuan rarely has free time of his own; hence, relationships and intimacy are almost unknown to him. of course, until you came along. your little deal has been going on for a while now; it has almost been a year since it started, and life is great. he dresses you up, treats you to the finest dishes in the luofu and makes your eyes roll back in the best way possible.

the only “downside” is that you can’t deny his sexual advantages, but ninety-nine percent of the time, you’re in need of good dick anyways. today is no exception.

right now you’re lounging in the general’s office while he’s managing some paperwork. your day had been mostly uneventful—that was until the doors to his office abruptly opened. in walk 2 men, one with dark hair and a sour expression, the other definitely a vhidyadara, with a more neutral expression. despite your shock, the general doesn’t seem fazed at all. in fact, he seems quite happy. he gives them a short nod as they enter his office, taking in the familiar room and making themselves at home.

it’s not long until their eyes settle on you, confused as to what a mere thing like you is doing in the great general's office.

“what is that doing in here?” the dark-haired man spouts, clearly unimpressed by your presence.

the general lets out a chuckle, “her? don’t mind her. she’s simply keeping me company.” he finally looks up, doing a one-over on the three of you, giving you a short smile as he turns back to face his friends.

“how unbecoming of you, dear general. keeping a concubine at your disposal,” the dark haired man gestures dismissively in your direction, stepping further into the room, closing the distance between him and the general.

jing yuan steps away from his desk, making his way down to the lower area of his office, past his friends, and to the sofa, occupying the space next to you. “now, now, blade, no need to be so aggressive,” he grips your thigh, giving it a tight squeeze. “or are you perhaps jealous? she’s quite the pretty thing, isn’t she?”

the man you now know as blade scoffs, rolling his eyes at the display. "jealous? i have no reason to be." he stalks closer, looming over the two of you on the couch. "i just think it's pathetic, is all. a man of your stature, reduced to rutting with some common whore."

the other man finally speaks up, his calm voice cutting through the tension. "enough. it’s not our position to interfere in jing yuan’s affairs." he steps forward, making his way to the sofa. "although, i must agree, she’s quite a stunning catch, general."

jing yuan smiles, his gaze never leaving yours as he addresses his friends. "indeed, den heng, she is quite stunning. and very talented as well." his hand slides higher up your thigh, his fingers tracing teasing patterns against your skin. “especially on her knees.”

dan heng chuckles, his teal eyes glinting ever so slightly. "i can certainly see the appeal." he takes a seat on the other side of you, his large frame dwarfing your own. "perhaps we should stay and enjoy the general's hospitality a while longer, hmm?"

blade looks like he wants to object, but something in jing yuan's expression stops him. he settles for a scowl, crossing his arms over his chest. "fine. but make sure your whore behaves herself.”

you do your best to pay blade no attention, instead glancing over at the two men on either side of you. the general's touch is igniting a familiar heat in your core, letting sinful thoughts fill your head. a blush slowly creeps up your cheeks.

dan heng notices your reaction, a slow smile spreading across his face. "looks like the lady is eager to please." his hand joins jing juan's on your thigh, teasing your smooth skin.

jing yuan hums in agreement, his thumb brushing over your clothed sex. "mmm, indeed she is. and i aim to take advantage of that." he meets your gaze, his dark eyes smouldering with promise. "would you like that, dear? to have us use this slutty little body of yours?”

your breath hitches, your hips shifting restlessly under their combined touch. "yes," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "please, i want... i want you.” you lock eyes with blade, looking down on you. “no—i need you. all of you,” you plead, catching his attention too.

jing yuan grins, his eyes darkening with lust as he takes in your pleading expression. "Such a needy little slut, aren't you?" his hand slides beneath your skirt, his fingers brushing against your damp panties. "don't worry, sweetheart. i promise by the end of the night, you’ll be fucked dumb by us.”

dan heng chuckles, his own hand joining jing yuan's beneath your skirt. "indeed, we'll make sure this slutty little body of yours gets the thorough fucking it deserves." he presses a finger against your clothed sex, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

even blade seems to be wavering at the sight of your needy expression, his gaze specifically drawn to the sight of your flushed cheeks and parted lips. "i suppose there's no harm in indulging a bit," he mutters, moving closer to the sofa.

jing yuan smirks, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. "good girl. now, let's get these off, shall we?" he tugs the flimsy fabric down your legs, tossing them aside carelessly. “now on your knees, my pretty slut.”

you comply, of course, moving to kneel before them. jing yuan grins, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in your body beneath him. "that's it, my little slut. on your knees where you belong." his hand slides into your hair, gripping the strands tightly as he guides your head towards his crotch.

dan heng mirrors his actions, his own hand fisting in your hair as he pulls you closer to his own clothed erection. "open wide, whore. gonna use this pretty mouth of yours."

blade watches from the sidelines, his expression a mix of disgust and reluctant arousal. but as your tongue darts out to wet your lips, he seems to discard his hate. with a muttered curse, joins the other men, unfastening his pants and freeing his hardening cock.

jing yuan smirks, his grip on your hair tightening as he frees his cock, just before pulling you to face his member. "suck," he commands, his voice rough with need. "go on, show us what that slutty mouth can do."

you part your lips, allowing him to slide his throbbing length into your mouth. you moan around his length, the taste of his precum coating your tongue as you begin to bob your head.

dan heng grunts, his own cock twitching with anticipation as he watches you service jing yuan. "fuck, pretty," he breathes, grabbing your right hand and dragging it to palm his erection. "c’mon, keep me busy with your hands."

you fumble with his pants, messily freeing his erection, no—erections. you can only spare him a quick glance, given how your face is busy taking jing yuan. but you can feel it nonetheless—two hardened lengths grazing your fingers, and they’re big. you alternate between the two cocks, stroking and playing with them, eliciting sweet sounds from the dragon while you’re bobbing on the general's length.

blade steps closer, his expression unreadable as he watches you work. but as jing yuan pulls you off him, your mouth parting with a wet pop, he seems to make up his mind. he grips your face roughly, forcing your gaze to meet his.

"you want all of us, slut?" he growls, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips. "then open up. i'm going to fuck this pretty little mouth until you're choking on my cock."

he doesn’t wait for a response; instead, he thrusts forward, forcing his thick length past your lips. he’s much larger than you expected, making you gag slightly as he hits the back of your throat, but he doesn't relent. his hips snap, meeting your face as he fucks it with brutality. tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you struggle to breathe, but in all honesty, you’re quite enjoying the situation before you with the three men.

while your attention is divided between the vhidyadara and hunter, jing yuan takes matters into his own hands. kneeling down to meet your level, he starts to tug at your robes. his movements start off delicate, trying not to ruin the expensive garments he bought for you. but to no dismay, he’s not making any progress. he lets out a muttered curse under his breath as he opts to rip the garments instead, desperate to see your naked body displayed for him.

the rough motion makes you squeal around blade’s length, getting quite the reaction out of him as his grip on your face tightens, fucking you harder. the cool air hits your body hard, instantly sending a shiver throughout your entire body. jing yuan's hungry gaze rakes over your exposed self, his hands skim over your curves, his touch possessive and demanding as he pulls you flush against him, away from the other men.

he swiftly picks you up, holding you in his firm arms while he moves you according to his will. he throws you down on the now-free sofa, with your ass up in the air. ever the generous general, he gestures to his two old friends, offering your body to them. “go on, pretty. be a good whore for us,” he coos as he watches from a distance, hand fisting his cock. “you gonna be a good girl and let them fuck you silly, hm?”

your response comes out in ragged breaths, due to the harsh treatment from not just the general—but his friends too. "please," you whimper, locking eyes with dan heng, pleading as you look up at him. "fuck me. use me like the slut I am.”

your pleading expression makes dan heng's eyes darken with lust, his gaze roaming over your exposed body with a sense of hunger that he doesn’t even try to hide. "such a needy little whore," he growls, stalking closer to your body. "begging for our cocks like a bitch in heat.”

he grips your hips, his large hands spanning your waist as he positions himself behind you. you can feel one of his thick lengths pressing against your wet cunt, teasing your entrance with slow, deliberate touches.

jing yuan chuckles darkly from his position in front of the sofa, his hand still fisting himself. "indeed, she is. my pretty little slut, so desperate to be filled and used."

blade scoffs, finding his place at your face once again, his expression emphasises the digust in his eyes as he towers over you. "pathetic," he spits, though his hips keep on thrusting forward, his cock sliding against your cheek. "reduced to rutting with a common whore." despite his harsh words, you can feel his length twitch against your skin, smearing his precum all over your face. you lick a small droplet on the corner of your lips, tasting the salty liquid before peppering him with kitten licks.

your desperation is evident at this point. den heng’s grip on your hips tightens as he grinds against you. "fuck, such a slutty little cunt," he groans, his voice rough with desire. "i bet you'd let anyone fuck your tight little holes, wouldn't you?"

his words send a shiver down your spine, your stomach clenching as he teases your entrance with one of his cocks, while the other rubs your sensitive nub perfectly. you're so close to being filled, your body aching for the stretch of cock.

jing yuan seems to sense your desperation as well, his hand sliding up your back as he leans in close. "Mmm, such a wet little cunt," he groans, his thumb circling your clit. "I bet she'll let us do anything we want to her, won't you, my pretty slut?"

replying seems impossible at this point, so instead, you push your hips further against him, grinding any friction you can get while you moan around blade’s length. you don’t look behind you, but you can hear a condescending tsk from dan heng’s direction. although you’re taken aback as you feel something light trail up your back, you do your best to ignore it; you can only manage for so long.

you try to turn around to see what’s tickling your delicate skin. but before you can catch a glimpse, the same mysterious object wraps around your face. its ends are soft as it slithers down to your neck, tightening around it, making you gasp for air. it’s then that you realise that it’s his tail—he’s a vhidyadara, of course; it only makes sense for him to have one.

it’s with the movement of his tail that he finally enters you, pushing into your tight cunt at a painfully slow pace, making you feel every burn from being stretched around his cock. you cry out at the sensation, “oh, fuck!” you gasp, your body shaking from being so full. “s-so big! so full—”

he smirks at the way your body is shaking, his hands gripping your hips as he begins to thrust, his cock sliding in and out of your slick folds while the other continues to perfectly rub your clit. "that's it, take it all, you little whore," he growls, his hips snapping against your ass with each brutal stroke. "this is what you wanted, isn't it? to be stuffed full of cock?"

jing yuan, watching from the best view in the house, chuckles darkly in front of you, the pace he set on himself slowly speeding up. "indeed, she is. my pretty little slut, desperate to be used like a cheap whore."

blade is surprisingly quiet, letting out grunts here and there as he continues to fuck your face, mesmerised by your wet eyes looking up at him. you bat your eyes at him like a helpless dear, which only made him harder, showing no mercy as he fucks your throat even harder. occasionally landing a few slaps to your poor cheeks. he’s close, so he grabs you by the hair and pushes you down on his cock one last time.

“dumb bitch,” he breathlessly spits. “take it all, you fucking slut,” with that, he lets out what you can only assume is a low moan as he empties his load down your throat.

he pulls away from your mouth, a trail of saliva dangling between his cock and your lips. “open,” he commands.

you part your lips for him, showing the cum mixed with your own spit inside your mouth. to your surprise, blade leans down, spitting there too, mixing his own saliva with yours. “swallow,” of course, you do. leaving him somewhat satisfied. “what an obedient slut, good bitch.”

after licking the remains of blade’s cum off your face, the grip around your neck pulls you up so you’re standing on your knees. to your dismay, dan heng pulls out, leaving you completely empty. you whine out, disappointed in the three men. that is, until jing yuan grabs hold of your fragile body, lifting you up to place you on top of him as he sits down on the sofa.

“what’s wrong, dear?” he coos, feigning pity. “are you that desperate for my cock?” he grips your chin, forcing you to look at him. “well go on, ride my cock. fuck yourself dumb for me, okay?” in an instance, you’re shifting your weight to slowly sink yourself down on his cock, letting out a loud cry as you completely sit down on him. although as you try to move, you find yourself being blocked once more, by that familiar feeling around your neck.

dan heng, who makes his presence evident behind you, grips your ass while he whispers into your ear. “not yet, silly girl. thought you wanted to be stuffed full, ain’t that right?” one of his hands is now holding his cocks, aligning the first with the very same hole that jing yuan is occupying and the other with your, currently empty hole.

he pushes in slowly, giving you time to adjust. you’ve never been so full before. part of you thinks you should be worried; at this rate, they’ll probably break you. but this is what you asked for, no? so you sit there and take it like a good cocksleeve, your limits being tested as dan heng finally bottoms out inside of you, placing a small kiss to the back of your head. “good girl,” he whispers. “so good at taking cock, aren’t you?”

instead of riding the general as he initially planned, he grips your hips, hoisting you up so he can instead thrust inside of you, moving at a brutally mean pace. normally, this would be fine. he’s trained you to be the perfect fucktoy for him. but as you’re currently finding out, taking him and two other cocks is quite the challenge.

you cry out, your slutty moans filling his office. at this point, you’re definitely loud enough for the guards stationed outside to hear you, but they know better than to interrupt the generals ‘private’ affairs. you’re crying, tears streaming down, landing on your breasts. you can’t even think straight; even if you could, what the hell are you supposed to think about when you’re so full of cocks.

your pleasure only heightens when you feel a new sensation, something wet and hot gliding across your breasts. you manage to spare a teary glance to realise that it’s blade. sitting next to your general, he leans in closer, lapping up the tears that fall onto your plush tits all whilst stroking himself.

it’s all too much, you can feel your orgasm approaching you rapidly. and apparently, your general can too. “what’s this, pretty?” he murmurs in a lustful tone. “you like being used by multiple men that much? you gonna cum f’me? cream mine and den hengs cocks?” his breath etching into the sides of your neck is only pushing you further; the hot heat making your sensitive skin feel like it’s set ablaze. “go on then. make a mess for me, my pretty little slut.”

you didn’t even notice until it was too late, but during the general's words, the vhidyadara man found his own release. his hot cum spurting out of both cocks, filling you up in both holes. he’s a mess, groaning and moaning at the sensation of being milked dry, babbling into your other ear about how you’re such a pretty concubine.

of course, he won’t pull out just yet, though. i mean, the very concubine herself hasn’t come yet. despite the overstimulation, he keeps going, fucking his cum deep inside of you while he whispers into your ear. “just like that. taking us so well, aren’t you?”

you’re quite desperate yourself; the grip you have on jing yuan is much stronger than before, leaving crescent marks all over his biceps as you grind into the cocks. you’re so close, you can practically already feel it.

whether it was den heng’s whiny moan in your ears, blade’s teeth biting your sesitive nipple, or jing yuan hitting that one spot that makes you see stars, your orgasm hits you hard. harder than ever, if you dare say so. you scream out, moaning the general's name as your vision goes blurry for a moment, gushing out all over jing yuan’s lap and definitely the sofa. the way you’re clenching around him is also enough to send him over the edge, fucking his cum deep inside of you as he rides out his own high. and of course, blade, who’s watching the entire scenario unfold before him, pulls you to face him. your tits are on full display as he shoots his load all over them, letting it drip down your aching body.

collapsing on top of jing yuan, you finally have a moment to catch your breath. you’re covered in sweat and heaving hard as dan heng pulls out and makes himself comfortable on the sofa. you though, decide to stay and rest on your general, cock still inside of you, keeping the cum from earlier sealed. he himself is also out of breath, dazed expression falling across his face. he seems satisfied, but that’s not all. you’re sure you can sense something else in his eyes.

your thoughts are confirmed as he clears his throat. “good girl,” his voice is low, tickling the area next to your ear. “you took us so well, you really are my perfect little cocksleeve.” he sends a reassuring smile your way as he tucks a stray piece of hair away from your face. although, his gaze quickly shifts into something… darker as the hand on your hip slowly trails down to the curve of your ass.

“so well that it’s only fair we return the favour…” he holds your chin gently and you lock eyes with him once more. “isn’t that right, gentlemen?”

taglist: @ryescapades @143-ilyuu @maruflix @pixelcafe-network thank you @katsutora for proof reading <3

©lumis kinktober 24' ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[heirofnight]

coffee for two

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 1.1k

summary: reader introduces coffee to azriel, he falls in love - and not just with the hot beverage.

a/n: this is just a fluffy little oneshot that was born from a headcanon that someone posted where it was mentioned that azriel would love black coffee. and like, i agree. and i had to write this immediately. also, hurricane hits tomorrow morning, and i'll likely be without power for an extended period of time. i'll post as i can! pls keep sending requests so i have things to write when i finally have power again. love u all! <3 talk soon.

azriel had a knack for trailing behind you - a moth to a flame, he couldn't help but find himself right next to you whenever the opportunity presented itself.

you hadn't yet noticed.

a newer addition to the inner circle's family, you were initially introduced to the group through your recruited assistance on a job - by rhysand, who had now become the protective older brother that you'd never had in just several short months.

however, you'd first ended up hitting it off with mor, and the rest was history - you'd since become an indoctrinated member of the family, and your presence was welcomed wholeheartedly - you were boisterous, funny, a bright, beaming light.

and azriel could not, for the life of him, stay away.

you'd become comfortable with every one of his loved ones to some extent - they all adored you, took care of you, worried after you.

but az .... there still remained a question mark over the male. you couldn't quite figure out how he felt about your presence.

sure, you'd caught him softly smirking over at you when you'd crack one of your witty jokes. and sure, he'd often speak up whenever you found yourself in a pointless debate with cassian over various family dinners - the shadowsinger never failing to stand up for you and take your side, even if the mock argument was all in good fun.

one time, you were running late for said dinner, and az had gone out of his way to make sure the house had prepared your favorite meal - your plate was steaming hot and waiting for you on a placemat right next to his own seat whenever you'd finally made your way into the dining hall.

cass had just snickered down the table, waggling his eyebrows at his brother's obvious show of affection. azriel remained silent, shooting daggers back towards the war general. that was enough of a response to shut cassian's mouth.

this morning, you'd taken a spot at that same table for breakfast, nursing a mug of hot, dark liquid. the pungent aroma trailed throughout the bottom level of the house, and azriel caught a whiff of it as soon as his boots met the landing of the staircase.

he inhaled deeply, the scent engulfing his senses. it was pleasant - deep and calming. he followed it all the way to the threshold of the dining hall, his gaze finding your small frame tucked into one of the large, cushioned chairs immediately.

you were still wearing your silk nightgown, a matching robe adorning your shoulders. he noted the way the fabric had slipped down just slightly, your bare skin glistening in the morning glow that trickled through the windows behind you.

your hair was tousled, but in the most endearing way. you'd clearly very recently woken up, opting to find your way to this very table before doing anything else.

you stared down at the mug cradled in your hands, your eyes still heavy and tired.

"good morning," he said softly by way of greeting. he began to walk quietly to the chair opposite yours - the thump, thump, thump of his boots against the hardwood floor breaking the calm silence.

you peered up at him, tired eyes slightly squinted. a strand of hair falling in front of your eyes. azriel's gaze snagged there, his fingers twitching with the urge to tuck it behind your ear. he didn't, though - his external expression remained as neutral as possible. however, internally, he couldn't help but let the word adorable sluice through his thoughts.

you gave him a sleepy smile, nodding your head once in greeting.

"good morning, az," you offered, voice still maintaining a fatigued rasp. azriel's knees went weak at the sound, and that's when he decided it would probably be best to sit.

he stared at the contents of your mug for a moment. you weren't indulging in tea - the aroma was much stronger than any he'd personally had before, and azriel thought himself to be quite the tea connoisseur.

"what are you having?," he questioned after a moment, his voice more gentle than you'd ever heard it.

you swallowed the sip you'd just taken, humming quietly to yourself, "coffee," you lightly pushed the mug towards his side of the table, "would you like to try?"

you met his gaze, and azriel realized right then that he'd try anything you'd ask him to - without question, if only to make you happy. even if he hated it, he'd pretend to love it. he longed to make you smile the way his brothers had.

he'd not tried coffee before, although he had heard of it. the opportunity had never arisen, and he figured now was as good a time as any to broaden his scope of morning beverages.

he, too, really enjoyed his alone time right after awakening. it gave him space to sort through his thoughts, his obligations for the day - and he always enjoyed a nice hot cup of tea while doing so.

his scarred hands reached for the mug, and he lifted it to his lips slowly. you smiled fondly while watching him, nodding slightly to urge him on.

"it's a bit strong," you said softly, "i do prefer mine black - without cream or sugar," you added, explaining yourself.

he hummed, taking a generous sip into his mouth. it was bitter, and azriel wasn't quite used to the depths of flavor that he sorted through as soon as the liquid hit his tongue. he thought for a long moment, before taking another small sip.

he nodded in finality, pushing the mug back towards you gently.

"i like that," he decided, nodding once more.

your smile grew as you clasped the mug between your hands once more, "i thought you'd might," you said sweetly, reaching over to tap his hand affectionately.

azriel preened to himself, wishing he could take this moment and pause it for eternity. to never leave this chair, to never have to give up this alone time with you - your silk nightgown, messy hair, and tired eyes. your rosy cheeks. the scent of coffee twining around the both of you, making the air thicker in the sweetest way.

yeah, azriel wish he could freeze-frame this moment forever.

but instead, you both sat in comfortable silence, and the house knowingly presented azriel with his own identical cup of warm, black coffee. his large hand immediately reached out to tug it towards his frame.

you both huffed out a laugh at the same time, and your eyes flicked up to his in realization.

finally, you thought, i've gotten through to him. common ground.

little did you know, azriel had been scrambling after you for months - trying to stand on any ground you'd give him.

and the next morning, when you entered the dining hall bright and early - hair disheveled and half asleep, azriel was already there - waiting for you.

with two mugs of hot, black coffee already on the table.

a/n: yall i have no idea where this came from. someone posted a headcanon where they mentioned azriel loving black coffee, and this idea came to mind immediately. i hope you love it <3

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Regarding the post about Marinette being punished for trusting people and the response to it, this is something I always have trouble explaining because it sounds callous? But fictional characters aren't people. It's not that their lives just so happen to get in the way leading to something bad happened the writers decided that should happen, and it's important that you stop and ask WHY this happens. If the camera is "on" per se, people assume it's relevant and will tie into something larger. So like if the camera is on and all we see is Alya revealing her identity and then the result is she's outed in the same way she was in Heroes Day, the audience naturally concludes it's connected and thus realizes the lesson is either "Alya learns she shouldn't share her identity" OR "Marinette learns she shouldn't trust people" or both.

Secret identities are a great example of this phenomenon. We're NOT shown every time a villain's plan is foiled because they didn't know the heroe's identity, we ARE shown every time a heroe's identity causes friction in their lives. As such, large parts of the audience think of secret identites as inconveniences because that's what's shown (not just in Miraculous Ladybug, in tons of other shows)

Like you are supposed to make connections in Television about what's being shown to you that no one would make in real life (or at the very least no one SHOULD make in real life) because there's a limited space to tell the story and the audience is assuming the writers aren't wasting our time.

If these were real people it would be unreasonable to say because people have their own lives Marinette can't trust them, but in a story where Marinette is the main character who is explicitly always supposed that's. An accurate way to read the story!

And I also understand that this is a very boring construction if you're making headcanons or thinking about these characters! But that's a different lens, it doesn't make the broader writing lens invalid. You're speaking different languages at that point.

Anyway I hope that helps someone, that's my two cents

You summed it up perfectly! There's a ton of valid criticism to be had of Miraculous, but you can tell from the narrative framing that almost all of it comes down to writing choices and not things that are supposed to be seen as in-universe issues even though a lot of fans treat them as such. It's really weird to see things like people complaining about everything revolving around Marinette as if it's a personal flaw of hers and not the result of her being the main character in a fictional world. "Main Character Syndrome" literally pulls its name from the fact that this is how main characters work in a lot of media. It's a flaw when a real person does it, but in terms of story telling, it's extremely normal - and often good story telling - to have everything revolve around your main character or a core cast.

The issue with Miraculous is that they chose a lot of poor conflicts if they wanted Marinette to be the one and only main character, but that's not her fault. She didn't decide to have the rules around identities make no sense. The writers did. She didn't decide to make the main villain Adrien's dad while also keeping Adrien from being involved in the story. The writers did. The list goes on and on and, because none of it reflects badly on Marinette in the writers' eyes, the show doesn't act like Marinette is in the wrong. Remember, these are the same writers who think that Derision was a great episode that added depth to Marinette instead of destroying her character and making her look unhinged. Their judgement is clearly a little skewed.

While the writers love to make bad plot choices, they are generally using proper story telling language to make those choices, which is why I can tell you how characters' actions are intended to be read. The Rena Furtive and Nino example is a great one because it allows me to show that the writers do understand how to set things up. In fact, once they've decided that they're going to do a thing, they pretty much always set it up at a basic level. It's rarely spectacular and often frustrating, but it's never shocking.

In Rocketear, Alya promises Marinette that Nino will never learn about Rena Furtive. The episode then ends with her breaking that promise via the following exchange:

Alya: (sighs) I'm still Rena Rouge. (Nino gasps.) But now I'm in hiding and that's why Ladybug asked me not to tell anyone. Nino: But why are you telling me if no one's supposed to know? Is Ladybug cool with this? Alya: I can't hide it from you, because I love you, Nino, and we share everything.

Look at how this confession is presented. Look at what the dialogue focuses on. When Marinette confessed her identity to Alya, it was all about the confession and supporting Marinette. There was no discussion of this being a problem for Chat Noir or anything like that because - in the writers' eyes - that wasn't a problem for some reason. This is why Chat Noir almost instantly absolves Ladybug of blame once he finds out about the identity reveal (see: Hack-San.) The writers didn't want it to be an issue so it wasn't:

Ladybug: I'm really sorry, Cat Noir. I should've told you. I mean, if I found out that you told someone about your secret identity, I'd... probably be upset, too. I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings. Cat Noir: You didn't hurt my feelings. You did everything right

But when Alya confesses her identity to Nino, the conversation is not just about her confession. It's about her confession and how she's not supposed to do this. That's why Nino's response is not loving support. Instead, he asks if this is a good idea and if Ladybug knows.

These things are getting focused on because the writers are telling you that this is a bad thing. It's supposed to feel ominous. When I first watched Rocketear, I assumed that the season was going to end with Gabriel getting the fox off of Alya due to Nino because that was an obvious way to raise the stakes and they'd just heavily implied that Nino knowing would be a bad thing. I was, unfortunately, right. The only on screen consequence of Nino knowing is that he outs Alya to everyone in an incredibly forced series of events (see: Strikeback):

(Ryuko successfully prevents the Roue de Paris from hitting them, yet, it flies to the direction where Rena Furtive is. This causes Carapace to panic.) Carapace: Rena! (takes out his shield) Shell-ter! (Carapace's superpower successfully prevents the Ferris wheel from hitting Rena Furtive on top of the Tour Montparnasse. But the information of Rena Furtive's active status shocks the heroes, as well as Shadow Moth.) The heroes: Rena?! Shadow Moth: (from the top of the Eiffel Tower) She's still active?

Of course the Ferris Wheel goes straight for Alya's hiding spot and of course Nino screams her name before casting his power and of course the villain overhears it. It's all so forced and unnatural, which should make it glaringly obvious how much the writers wanted this to happen. This wasn't something they were kind of forced to do because it made sense for the narrative and they wanted to tell a good story. Instead, they wrote an awkward series of events because they really, really, really wanted Nino knowing to be a bad thing that outs Alya so that Marinette loses all of the miraculous even though none of this makes much sense.

How the hell did Gabriel hear Nino's shout from so far away? Is he able to overhear everything the heroes are saying? How does Nino even know that Alya is hiding there? And since when was a Ferris Wheel a threat to these guys? Your girlfriend is a magical girl and she's in her magical girl form, dude. You could drop a building on her and she'd be fine, a thing you have to know because this scene literally goes on to have Chat Noir go flying into a building, hitting it so hard the cement literally cracks, and no one really cares. I guess it's fine if Adrien is a punching bag, but Alya must be protected at all costs...

Anyway, while the above series of events was annoying, none of it was surprising. In fact, it would have all be perfectly predictable even if Alya outing herself was that treated as a more neutral event. Her choice leading to bad things falls perfectly in line with a truly bizarre running theme in the show: outing your identity to the person you love romantically is a bad thing that leads to bad consequences. That's why Chat Blanc and Ephemeral ended the world and why Nino knowing cost Ladybug the fox and why the character they call Joan of Arc has to give up her miraculous to be with her love and why the Kwami's have this absolutely asinine dialogue in Kwamis' Choice:

Plagg: Sugarcube! Having to force them to choose between love and their mission is just awful! Maybe Master Fu was wrong to choose them. Tikki: No, they’re made for each other. Love is what gives them their strength. Plagg: But the impossible part of that love is destroying them, and I know a thing or two about destruction. Tikki: (sighs heavily) What can we do? Plagg: We must free them of that impossible choice. We must… free them of us.

This is the voice of the author telling you that outing the identities is not and never will be a good choice for the love square. Never mind that Alya is allowed to know Marinette's identity or that Gabriel finding out is what actually ended the world in the alternate timelines or that Felix outted himself in public but is still wielding or that freaking Gabriel was allowed to know half of the temp heroes' identities while they were still actively wielding. For some reason, those things don't matter to the narrative, probably because romantic love wasn't involved. The "identity reveals are a bad thing" rule only seems to apply when romantic love is a key element to the point where it's a reoccurring theme in this supposed power of love show.

[unriding]

MOZE X GN!READER ﾉ comfort. sfw. not proofread and very short!

Something pokes your back through the blankets you’ve buried yourself under. Once, twice, then a brief moment of silence follows before your mattress dips down from underneath his weight.

“I brought you something.”

He doesn’t hear a response aside from a muffled hum into the pillow that only Moze could make out as a sign for him to continue. “Sun bear.”

“….Bear?”

“Bear.” He places the plush where he assumes your hands are.

The room falls silent again, but he can’t find it in himself to tear his eyes off your frame for any longer than a split second. Though, had you moved even an inch out from underneath the comfort of your duvet, surely you would have caught the way the look in his eyes softens ever so slightly as soon as he hears you sniffle.

“Oh,” you’re speaking into your arm now, he thinks— from the muffled way your voice comes out. “Well thank you. I like sun bears.”

“I know.”

“I like how— ” your voice cracks, and you immediately fall silent again. “Um— ”

“You like how funny they look,” he finishes your words for you, having heard this story all too many times to not know it like the back of his hand by now. “And you like how they look when they stand. You like that one picture of them waving.”

“You like moles too. Because they have ‘cute noses.’”

You’re eerily silent now, but he sees the tremble of your body from well above the blankets. It’s why he’s as gentle as someone like him could possibly be when he places a hand somewhere around your back before rubbing up and down— the way you always do for him whenever you want to lull him to sleep.

Somehow, he thinks your body relaxes under his touch. Even if just a bit.

“The General gave me the day off.”

It’s painfully obvious to him that you’re struggling to hold back your tears from the way your body rises up and down against his palm— raggedly, as if trying to wholly silence the sound of your own breathing. “Mm- oh. Did she?”

This time, your voice comes out much, much more strained than you thought it would, and you seem to instantly realize that he picks up on this too from how your shoulders abruptly stiffen. “Sorry. I’m just a little bit sad—”

“I can tell.”

“Oh.”

There’s a shuffling as the mattress dips from directly behind your back now, before you hear him let out a quiet huff to plop down beside you— large arm easily pulling your body back to meet his chest. You don’t say anything, only sneaking a hand out from underneath the blankets to lightly grab onto one of his wrists.

“Hmph.” He holds you just like this— cradling you, along with your mass of blankets, close to him. The gesture seems to reach you this time, seeing as how your hands abruptly fly up to wipe at your tears before he hears you sniffle again, followed by a mumbled series of apologies.

“You should let it out.” Moze pulls you closer to his heart, as if holding you tighter was even possible. Tighter until he’s certain you can feel his heartbeat pound against your back.

“Okay,” you’re mumbling against his own arm this time, “then I think I’ll be sad for just a little bit if that’s okay.”

[lets-try-some-writing]

Considering family for Cybertronians is important stuff like child support, daddy/mommy issues and whatnot would be confusing to them

Cons: We have your husband

June: You can keep him.

Bots: June??

June: And if you could would you please scare him into paying child support?

Bots,cons: ???

Oh yeah it would be confusing. Cybertronians have convoluted and complicated relationships, but let it not be said that they fail to be organized. A family on Cybertron can be anything from the Conjunxed couple and their wards to a collection of mecha related purely through paperwork, or perhaps not even through offical means. Whatever the case, Cybertronians make it a point to know their relatives when possible and to support one another if able. Regardless of the situation, if you are family, you are obliged to follow certain standards.

Any Cybertronian involved in the forging, raising, or mentoring of a newspark must be there in some capacity. Unlike humans, simple caste sharing and funding is more than enough in most circumstances. Strictly speaking, a Cybertronian doesn't even need parents, just a familial unit of some sort and a sponsor to ensure that newsparks are taken care of. Family units are loose, but the rules are not. Even Whirl would be morally obliged to at least turn up once and a while with either payment or wisdom to share with any newspark he helped create or got himself involved with as a mentor. It is not even a question on Cybertron. The scummiest mechs still know the rules, and generally speaking, it is in the best interest of all parties to follow the rules of sponsorship.

The larger the family, the more resources one theoretically has to call upon. Hence the interest in taking care of one's line. Humans though? Considering they are not functionally immortal and are not given the great equalizer that is in built weaponry, the rules are all but nonexistent. Children do not always have the power to get back at parents, and parents generally do not have as great an investment in their offspring since any offspring are not likely to bring back investment in a reasonable time frame, at least by Cybertronian standards.

The Cybertronians on Earth simply do not understand the plethora of broken homes amongst humanity. Even Megatron, while largely uncaring of the fleshies, is a tad confused when it comes to the lack of fathers or mothers in homes. Children murdering parents isn't anything new. Cybertron wasn't much better once one got into the higher castes. But parents abandoning their young? That's new. It was a code of honor on Cybertron for a mentor or caretaker to do everything their power to at least make an attempt to provide.

Jack's situation in particular gained the collective confusion of Bots and Cons alike. How could a Sire abandon his creation? Entirely too. It was strange. So strange in fact that Shockwave was momentarily interested in possibly testing the resiliance of the human family structure since, according to his assessment, some family units matched Cybertronian ones in strength where others were all but nonexistent.

It was nigh on culturally impossible to fully comprehend. The Cybertronian family is a messy thing, but even for the functionally immortal, there are rules.

Optimus: Your Sire left you? Without a word?

Jack: Yeah. Dad left when I was young and hasn't come home since.

Arcee: No financial aid? No instructional holovids? Nothing?

Jack: Nope. Haven't heard from him since I was little.

Ratchet: That's ridiculous! Your Sire should not have been given a warrant to engage in any mentorship, much less creation!

June: You can say that again.

[sunniepoo]

jj had spent a fair amount of time doing odd jobs all over different states but when his stay in an isolated,closed off community extends longer than expected, he can’t help but notice you; preachers daughter

when the storm outside brewed further, jj knew that he wouldn’t be able to travel for a while until everything was cleared up. the rough clash of the branches against the paley tinted window filled the air reminded him of the ongoing war of weathers outside, his eyes drifted into the endless fields of grass occasionally having a few buildings and houses adorned along the way tinted with a rough grey through the stained windows

he was lucky to have found refuge, the local preacher offering up his home to stay in while the storm calms down and he continues to do his work around town - fixing pipes and leaky sinks to cars and rundown trucks

different, everything here was different - it was as if the place was drowning in an endless silence gradually sucking the life out of the people but they didn’t seem to mind, mumbling on something about this is the way god had wanted them to live. it terrified him to start, being stuck somewhere like this; despite all his struggles back home in kildare at least it had life, friends,colour but the pay was quite generous and a couple weeks more couldn’t hurt him

“storms creating a right mess” the older man speaks, he was dressed in a dark cloak covering his body with a large cross necklaces adorning his neck. “s’gonna take a while for all the roads to clear up” jj replies, he would be lying if didn’t say the man in front of him didn’t intimidate him - he possessed the same loneliness that swarmed the rest of this town but he had offered up his home, gave him a hot meal; so he couldn’t be all that bad

at first he didn’t even see you, it wasn’t until the soft creak of the floorboard, he saw your small frame hidings behind the wall, watching him. the older man watched jj’s eyes shift, following at what was catching his attention “oh! i forgot to introduce you to our new guest honey” he says ushering you over to where they were standing “this young man will be staying with us for some time while he works. go on say hi” while he explains there is a slight look in his eye telling her it was okay. jj wasn’t going to bite

he didn’t miss the slight glint in your eyes as you locked eyes, your palm reaching out to meet his, it was a short handshake but he couldn’t forget the way your gentle hands gripped his, the tips of your fingers stroking against his “hi” it was barely a sound, moreso a squeak

cute. he thought, you looked nice - the kind of nice he thought was only in the movies, the kind of nice that would rather let the spider free than kill it

“well i’ll be off” your father interrupts the silence, pulling you into a quick hug before patting jj lightly on the shoulder “some work over at millers’ house” he begins to pack his stuff and leave before letting out a ‘don’t cause any trouble’ mostly aimed at you. mostly

it was silent for the most part, you’d run off to your room while he gathered his equipment and started working at the faulty sink in the kitchen. the long hours of the day seemed to fly by, he carried on as usual occasionally stopping for an odd break here and there and that’s when he saw you

you’d left your room door slightly open, sitting in between the gap watching him quietly “y’know you could come sit over here” he announces, hoping to have caught your attention “don’t bite, m’promise” the southern ting in his accent escaping between words. the light patter of your steps filled the air, replacing the once ominous silence, you’d decided to sit right opposite him, knees brought under your chin with big eyes staring into him

“are you hungry” the question comes very direct and forward, eyes never leaving his silently watching his every move. you knew your answer as the blonde lets out a cheeky grin, standing up to head towards the kitchen

what you were supposed to do was fix him a nice dinner and be in your way back to your room; what you were supposed to do was ask simple questions about his life and let him get on with his work - what you weren’t supposed to do was be sat on your kitchen counter with him working his way between your legs!

you didn’t even know how it happened, he was just so funny and he kept making you laugh and every time he spoke you found your eyes drifting from his eyes to his lips and the to his hands and the to the slight bulge of his cock in his pants. you hadn’t meant to fall into the temptation, if anyone found out oh god! you’d be in so much trouble, you’d be the talk of town

but something in you couldn’t find it in you to stop as his lips travelled down your body, loosely lifting your dress up to kiss between your thighs, kissing on top of your clothed pussy

“jay-jayj” the breathy moan that leaves your mouth is muffled by the patter of the rain against the window “n-not here, somewhere else” roughly grabbing the tops of his messy hair bringing him up from underneath your dress. you didn’t even have the self control to resist him - you’d been waiting for far too long for someone with life to come to this shitty little town and here he was in a 6ft blonde package.

he’d grabbed your hand locking your fingers together before dragging you over to the guest room he’d been sleeping in, gently nudging you to lay down on the bed. it was heaven, the way your lips collided against each other while his knees pealed your legs open. you could feel his hand sneaking down, slipping under the waistband of your panties, fingers rubbing slowly against your clit eliciting a loud moan from you

you felt shame as you looked at the walls decorated with framed pictures of mother mary, the rosary laying on the desk. how have come to do the one thing you’ve been told not to do? but it was so hard, trapped in this town where everyone had something to say about everyone, you couldn’t help but wonder - if there was something more outside the fields of grass, something like him

the same him whose tongue was down your throat “you sure about this sweatpea” he breathes out, mouth disconnecting from yours - panting slowly “cause you know once this happens…. there’s no going back” you couldn’t help but whimper at his words, giving him a small nod

“words baby.. words” he says before diving into the crook of your neck planting soft kisses along the bottom of your ear “mm yes jay yes yes yes” you were so so desperate to feel the spark, the colour, the life you’ve always wanted and if you passed on it now - it would never happen

the whine in your voice was all it took for him to pull at the straps of the top of your dress dragging it off you, letting your tits spill out leaving you in nothing but your panties

“jesuuus christ” as soon as he says that he doesn’t miss the subtle pout on your face at the name. right he would not approve “m’sorry babe” the apology is followed by the plaster of kisses down your stomach, getting closer and closer to your aching core “just got me acting crazy with all this. fuck . in front of me

you were soaked through and through thighs all sticky from your juices, “she really wants this…huh” it was cruel really how long he was taking, you were so tempted to just shove his face down there already “don’t worry papa s’gonna fix all of this” he’d already began to pull of your panties, mouth latching immediately on to your clit

“so fuckin’ good” he mumbles, words only making you more desperate “ah ah s’good jay” you moan out, hands roughly grabbing at the messy mop on top his head “so good” your pleasure only seemed to increase as his ringed fingers make their way into your needy little hole

the loud squelch that filled the air as his fingers piston roughly in and out of your soaking cunt, you were sure your juices were spread all over his mouth but that didn’t seem to stop him one bit, he was like a man starved the way his tongue flattened against your sensitive core, it had you morning like a kitten in heat

“oh god oh god oh god” as much as you hated using the lords name in vain, you couldn’t help as he fastened his face adding another finger inside your poor little hole. the blonde smirks mumbling “not god baby…..just me” your legs started to clamp lightly around his head, grinding your core against his face. you’d never be able to forget the way he made you writhe and tremble in his hold just from his mouth

you’d heard about it before, in old books that were thrown away for being ‘sent by the devil’ the feeling in your stomach - it was like a rough knot was tied in your stomach slowly building up “jay jay jay” you squeal as he moves his fingers impossibly faster “please jay ngh- need it uh- so bad jay” it was almost pathetic how needy you were for him but it only seemed to egg him on further

he was in his own form of bliss, jeans roughly grinding against the mattress beneath him, you were so perfect - he felt his cock throb harder than it ever has the moment he looked at you writhing against him “yeah that’s it” he breathily lets out “g’nna cum f’me baby” pillowy lips latching onto your fit sucking as harsh as possible while his fingers hit spots you’d never even dreamed of

“yes uh- yes ngh-yes” you were blessed to have your home at such a distance form town, it wouldn’t take much guessing to make out what was happening through the walls. the soft squeak was followed with a wave of sensations, a confusing pleasure taking out your body, causing almost pornographic moans to fill the room

overridden by pleasure your legs couldn’t stop shaking and much to jj’s surprise hot spurts of his own cum coated the front of his jeans as he came undone. the harsh pants were the only noise for some time before the troublesome blond came up lying next you

“did s’good babe” placing a firm kiss on your forehead pulling you into his arm, drawing soothing circles on your back as your realise the reality of what you’ve done. you were overridden with guilt but not because of what you’ve done but the lack of regret you have

you feel a weight go off the bed as jj gets up, arms reaching out to pick you up and bring you over to the bathroom. gentle, it was all so soft - it made you think about when he’d be gone, how you’d miss this, you’d be still stuck in this town with the same people, get married to someone you barely know and definitely don’t love. it made you press yourself as close as possible to him, soaking in his presence

and later that evening when you lay in his lap,his back pressed against the old couch as his hand strokes through the roots of your hair “m’gonna miss you so much” your hands travelled to wrap tightly around his arm like he’d be gone this second if you let go “don’ know what you saying sweetcheeks” he laughs, bringing a sweet kiss to the tops of your head “like you know” you breathe out, clearly melancholic about the situation “when you gotta go” eyes turning up to look at him

you didn’t expect him to say much, it was the truth and the both of you knew it - no one could change that. the palm of his hand grazes gently against your cheeks as he begins to speak, eyes locking with your intently “ion know a clue how m’gonna do it but your coming with me” his mouth leans down to place a deep kiss against your lips pulling you up against him

“really” the excitement in your voice was obvious, you typically would have thought he was bluffing but the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes proved otherwise. he was serious. “really. gonna get you out of here” it was as if he was also telling himself “ find you somewhere nice. somewhere where you belong…kay’ sweets” the words eased your restless mind. maybe he was right

and in that moment jj knew that no matter what, he was taking you with him. he had no clue how he was gonna do this but he knew it was happening and he’d rather stay here and die than leave you

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

august 2024 episode of octavinelle + 4koma update

You know the drill by now!

Spoilers for the 4koma and the Episode of Octavinelle chapter 12 below the cut. As a reminder, the Episode of Savanaclaw won’t be updating again until winter.

🫵 THERE THEY ARE…

THE SMOOTH CRIMINALS…

The poses in this opening page are so good; Leona sat all lax like a boss who knows who’s large and in charge, Ruggie leaning against the chair and swinging the keys to the vault around on one finger… The posing perfectly captures their personalities and roles in relationship to one another.

Once again, Azul makes many fantastically desperate and despair-filled expressions this installment 😭

Falling to his knees???? Laying flat on the floor??? Man is UNMATCHED when it comes to theatrics.

I like this shot of Azul and Leona’s gazes lining up; it really helps give you the sense of two rivals sizing each other up.

(Side note: you can also tell how much painstaking detail the artists went through to include their eye makeup in these close-ups. Hats off to them for the extra effort, it looks great!)

… WHY DiD THEY hAvFTA mAkE HIM So smUGHERE 💀

damn i wish i was that stack of contracts

… I mean what

sorry

Sorry

SORRY

I got distracted there, what were we talking about again????

AYO they always make Leona casting King’s Roar look so darn cool in the manga 😭

My favorite panel in this sequence has to be the one with the text bubbles. He looks so nonchalant and a little stern as he speaks the chant… The shadows on his face add a lot to the atmosphere of it!

This chapter is the part where Leona gets to sanding Azul’s hard work away! Look at how beautifully drawn Azul’s reaction is ✨

The particle-y effect of the contracts melting into sand is nice 😌 It feeds Azul’s tears… Tasty meal…

MOU YADA IN MANGA FORM IS PEAK

lmao Azul for real threw a tantrum, flailing his limbs and everything 🤡 Love that even Leona and Ruggie have NO idea how they should respond to this.

Oh no, here comes the OB…

The anguish Azul’s experiencing is really coming through. He’s sweating so much and his entire face is so. Er… for lack of a better term, twisted.

I think seeing the blot leaking out from each of them helps to illustrate that they’re truly being overwhelmed and consumed by their own inner darkness. It’s sad to see 😔

We cut back to Yuuta and co. squaring off against the twins!

I wanted to point out and comment on these parts with Jack. He’s not a character that I usually pay much attention to, but I gotta commend him for fighting back so hard and trying to shield the picture even when he’s clearly got no chance of winning. Jack bearing his fangs at Floyd with pupils contracted… 🫶 Very good and loyal pupper! I get the Jack appeal now, lol

I LOVE THIS

It reminds me of the similar Azul-Leona framing earlier in the chapter, though with a different context. I like that this shows how the twins are in sync and coming to the same terrible conclusion.

Not long after, they rush to Azul’s side—which makes me think that these two worry for his wellbeing 😭 THEY DONmT SAY IT OUT LOUD BUT THEY CARE

Oh yeah, here it comes… OB Azul has arrived!! 👀

I MEAN YEAH it’s not good for his health, but I’m so hyped for the battle and flashbacks to his childhood! Baby!Azul shall NOT escape our sight…

The 4koma this month centers on Jack, Vargas, and others (Jade, Kalim, Deuce) talking about using transformation magic for racing.

dhejeveiwhwuow I would say more, but I actually didn’t find this 4koma that remarkable. It’s a generally the boys chatting about animals and their different activities they excel at.

[ps-cactus]

ROOTED – Sebastian Sallow & GN!Reader & Ominis Gaunt oneshot – 1864 words

tags and warnings: no smut, no obvious romance, however - established relationship, unreliable narrator, haunting atmosphere, mystery, dark magic, death and resurrection, identity loss and confusion, obsession, (a bit of) predatory instincts, survival instincts, blood, symbolism. Also posted on AO3

A/N: characters here are in their early twenties, not long since graduation. established relationship - you've been living with sebastian and ominis after graduation - you can see this as friendship (might be challenging, but you still can) or anything else; here it can be whatever you want.

Inspired by several songs: In the woods somewhere, Like real people do - Hozier / Rebirth - Poets of the Fall / Funeral of Hearts - HIM <- that's where the 'moonlight' and 'firelight' come from, and i liked how they worked together for these characters

Summary: You died. Here is what happens after a short while.

ROOTED

As you open your eyes, you’re struck by the absence of any memory that might explain your presence here, on the icy ground surrounded by trees.

The cold greets you first. It presses against your skin—a new sensation, a pleasant one. The last thing your body recalls is the suffocating heat of a fever, endless and draining. You don’t know how long it lasted or why it broke, you’re only glad it did.

You push yourself upright, steadying yourself on a large stone nearby. Intricate carvings cover its surface. Runes, whispers something deep within your clouded mind. Important, yes, but too complex for your dulled thoughts to hold onto now.

Your legs barely obey you, but you walk. Distance and time lose their meaning. You just know you must keep moving, must find… something. You don’t know what you seek, only that something is missing.

Had your mind been clearer, you might have noticed him sooner. A man—taller than you, but his frame feels neither threatening nor overly strong. The forest around you is pitch black, the thick canopy blotting out even the cloud-covered sky. And yet, you see him as though the darkness does not exist.

“Sebastian?” he asks. You find the sound of his voice comforting, and you take a step closer.

Perhaps he’s the one you’ve been searching for?

His blonde hair, light-coloured eyes, and pale skin evoke something ethereal. If nature had human embodiments, he would surely be the moonlight—the light you suddenly crave to bask in. Drawn by that resemblance, you step even closer.

He’s been facing you for some time now. He doesn’t approach, doesn’t move—he simply waits. When you stop before him, the forest’s silence envelopes you, undisturbed by your laboured steps anymore. Slowly, your weakened mind starts picking up more. It’s still hard to grasp and analyse the details, but you guess the man has been crying recently.

He points something at you—a wand. The word surfaces in your mind just like “runes” did—it’s important. Meaningful. Dangerous. The faint red glow at the wand’s tip pulses slowly, and you don’t like it pulsing in your direction.

“Hello?” Puffs of mist from his breath linger briefly before vanishing. Though you’re only steps away, he peers around as if still unsure of your presence.

“Hello?” you echo quietly and no mist follows your words. Your voice trembles, both hesitant and hoarse. He feels like the moonlight you crave, and you’re desperate for him to speak again.

“Is it... truly you?”

You stay silent, not because you’re incapable of answering, but because the question itself eludes you. Your thoughts are growing sharper and clearer, but you find no answer within you. Only the softly rustling trees seem to know what “you” means, and you haven’t been able to listen closely enough to grasp it yet.

“Hey?” His tone grows louder and firmer, and he takes a cautious step toward you.

“Hey,” you reply instantly. Your voice is louder this time but remains frail and faint.

The man approaches with deliberate slowness. The instincts generations your ancestors honed over centuries lie dormant within you, leaving only the faintest trace of awareness in the background of your mind. You don’t move as his hesitant fingers find your hand, trail to your shoulder, and then settle on your cheek.

“Hey,” you say once more.

His hand retreats sharply. Flecks of earth cling to his pale fingers, melting into mud speckled with fragments of old leaves. He doesn’t meet your stare, though you keep looking into his eyes. You can’t be sure about anything now, yet his eyes shine with something different—in a way that draws you in.

“But how?” He glances around again, his wand finally lowering from its aim at you. “He didn’t… no…”

He pulls you by the hand, as you walk slow enough to match your stumbling feet. He guides you to a house tucked amid scattered trees. Some of the tension in your chest eases as you realise—you’re not being taken away from the woods.

With each step further from the denser trees, something deep inside stirs sharply. You’re too new to this—to your new instincts—to decipher their meaning. This is, after all, your first day with them. You only know you long to return. The forest clings to you, and every step too far away would tear at you like a root ripped from frostbound earth.

Light and warmth fill the house. The shift in temperature makes you tremble. You want to leave, unable to fathom why the Moonlight man would bring you to such an awful place.

“When did you return?” he asks, releasing your hand. His words aren’t directed at you, but you enjoy hearing his voice all the same. “I’ve been searching for you, but...”

The fire near the wall, encased in stone, is the most dreadful thing in the room. Slightly less so is the other figure—a man standing before the flames. When he turns, the firelight catches his messy brown locks, making you think of smouldering wood.

The Firelight man moves swiftly, closing the distance until he’s right before you. His hands clasp your shoulders tightly, his eyes scanning your face frantically. Freckles scatter across his face, and as he stands away from the dreadful fire, you can’t help but wonder—would this freckled skin feel cool beneath your touch or hot like embers?

“I’d stopped believing it was possible...” he mutters, his wide eyes finally locking with yours and freezing there.

He wraps his arms around you, pressing you against him. His clothes are damp and chilled, with only a few spots where the fire’s heat has left a trace of warmth. He talks a lot, but none of it makes sense to you. He keeps asking some questions you could never answer. His clothes’ scent—of moisture and woods—fills your lungs, soothing in its familiarity. The urge to retreat back into the forest grips you once more.

“Maybe I… can get the bath ready for you,” he says, resigned to your silence, pulling a twig and a few leaves from your hair. “Or let’s just—”

The Firelight man immerses your hands in a water basin and carefully cleans them. The dirt gives way to fine scars—patterns carved into your skin, trailing from your wrists up into your sleeves. These scars, fresh and tender, awaken an inexplicable attachment in you, and for the first time in this new, raw existence, you feel joy.

The Firelight man’s hands are wrapped in bandages, and where they meet the water, faint dark spots seep through. He dips a towel into the basin and carefully wipes your face. You don’t object. You don’t know what else to do, so you simply stand there, feeling the cold water against your skin. The Moonlight man slips something over your shoulders from behind. The softness is nice, but the warmth is less so. You barely notice it’s a wool blanket before he steps away.

You crave moonlight—if not his presence, then the faintest touch of its radiance from the sky. You glance toward the window, but it reveals only shadowy blackness. A hand wrapped in frayed bandages carefully shifts your face back.

The water loosens one of the wrappings on his hand, exposing already familiar patterns carved into his skin, echoing your own scars.

The icy touch of the water on your face stirs a longing to return to the forest, to its pure and unyielding cold. But you still don’t know what you’re searching for or what truly matters, so you simply remain where you are. The Firelight man’s tousled hair glints in the firelight, its colour like deep mahogany, and you can’t tear your eyes away.

“You can hear me, right?” he asks, and your gaze shifts back to his eyes—brown flecked with green, like fallen leaves scattered on the woodland ground. “Want some water?”

Your eyes settle on the glass in his hand, but you feel nothing for the water within—no more than for the moisture still clinging to your skin.

“Or the tea, you must be so cold.”

“Sebastian, stop—just shut up for a moment,” says the Moonlight man, massaging his temples as he paces the room. “What is going on? Please, what have you done?”

“The thing you’ve desired above all else yourself,” the Firelight man retorts, the glass hitting the table with a resounding thud as he turns away.

“Tell me you didn’t go through with that ritual. It’s forbidden; they warned us—explicitly.”

“I never promised you anything regarding this, Ominis.”

“Do you even understand what you’re talking about?”

They keep arguing, their voices climbing in volume and speed. They’re unbearably loud, and it feels so wrong here. You look out the window, drawn closer to it—to the serenity of the night. Beyond the glass lies peace itself—the dense weave of branches, the cushion of moss on the ground and trunks, the gnarled roots snaking through the forest floor. You can see it all so clearly and it mesmerises you.

The clamour behind you doesn’t stop; it feels wrong and chaotic, but truly—means nothing. Their voices fade into the background as you stare at your hands again, now spotless except for the delicate beautiful patterns carved into your skin.

The narrow crescent moon emerges from behind the weighty clouds, and your gaze is drawn upward immediately. For the first time, you can inhale fully, as though the moonlight’s pale, ghostly light exists purely to let you breathe.

The scents around you grow vivid. Wooden floorboards, some damp and others dry and warm. Pungent and earthy, herbs waft from a table nearby, mixed with the burlap’s rough aroma. A dusty sofa carries the weight of years, while the blanket on your shoulders smells of wool and spices... and then you smell blood.

You tear your gaze from the crescent moon, drawn to find the scent's origin. The frayed bandage on the Firelight man’s hand is seeping with warm blood. You’ve never seen fresh blood spilling from human skin before in your life, but instantly, it’s all you desire to see. This is what you were meant to find. Your hands ache to reach out and feel it.

You swallow at the idea of tasting it with your lips.

Without even looking, you sense the moonlight’s gentle touch where it slips past the clouds to grace your skin. It soothes and strengthens you. But it could do so much more outside, beyond these walls. The forest waits for you, as much as you long for it—along with the presence that you know now lingers deep in the darkness.

Your growing instincts warn you that arriving alone would not be accepted. You don’t rush. You stand still, inhaling deeply. The scent of blood dominates the house now—it’s all you can perceive.

The dispute continues in the voices lower but still tense. The Moonlight man’s cheek glimmers faintly with the tear. The Firelight man lifts his eyes to you, his words ceasing, plunging the room into silence.

Everything finally makes sense—you’ll be genuinely embraced there tonight if you don’t return alone. They must come with you.

And you will stop at nothing to ensure it.

[thenerdykneazle]

The Scriptorium

Summary: After a harrowing journey through Slytherin's Scriptorium, Ominis helps MC recover from being subjected to the torture curse. After all, he has personal experience dealing with its effects.

Ominis Gaunt x GN!MC

A/N: The fact that I haven't written and posted an Ominis one shot before this is a crime, honestly. Almost as much of a crime as it is that after the trauma that is the scriptorium, both boys just walk away at the end of the mission. So, I fixed it. Also, the first 2.4k of this is a description of the scriptorium mission. Most of the events/dialogue are straight from the game. So, feel free to skip ahead to the middle of this (once they're out of the scriptorium) if you don't need the refresher.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, talks of child abuse, descriptions of being crucio'd, awkward teenagerness in general, MC is naked for part of it but it's not sexual (they just needed a bath, okay?), Sebastian is a walking red flag in this mission but that's not my fault

Word count: 4880

You wound down the dark staircase, descending into Slytherin’s scriptorium. Sebastian entered in after you.

“Dark ominous corridors. My favourite,” he quipped.

“No comment,” Ominis replied coolly as he followed you both.

“Come on, that was a good one,” Sebastian said jovially.

You held back a snicker.

The ancient corridor at the bottom was littered with shattered stone and ended in a sealed door. You found a note left by Noctua Gaunt. She had been here. You repaired the stone into a relief, which Sebastian pointed out showed a person facing a snake.

Ominis shifted anxiously on his feet. He explained the sinister voice he heard telling him to speak to it. He told you how he was a Parselmouth – someone who could speak to snakes. He was certain that speaking to the door would open it, but he was hesitant.

“I’m hoping you’re having second thoughts,” he admitted.

“I see no reason we should stop now,” you replied, unaware of how much you’d come to regret those words.

Ominis breathed out a defeated sigh. “It’s ironic. When I left home, I vowed to leave the Dark Arts behind. And yet, here I am…Stand back.”

You took several steps backward, and Ominis turned to face the door. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered to himself.

You stared in awe as a low hissing came from your friend’s lips. The eyes of two of the snakes carved in the door illuminated with green light, and they slithered up around the frame. The door opened.

“It worked!” you said, stunned. “Ominis, you possess a rare ability indeed.”

“Between the two of you, I’m starting to feel left out,” Sebastian whinged light-heartedly.

Ominis’s brows drew together. “Between the two of us?”

“I – never mind,” Sebastian stuttered, realizing his slip.

You weren’t sure yet if you could trust Ominis with your secret. Professor Fig had asked you not to share details with anyone, and you’d already gone against that advice with Sebastian.

You entered into the next room and were met with a locked gate. Next to it was a dial with a statue of a snake atop it. Once you were all inside, the door you’d come through shut behind you. That was the first moment where you thought this might be a mistake. Sebastian pointed out another sealed gate. Ominis suggested inspecting them for clues on how to proceed forward.

You ducked through a half-opened gate and found another note from Noctua. Her description of feeling unwelcome in the scriptorium didn’t inspire confidence in you. Nearby was another dial. You lit the torch beside it and turned one of the large metal discs. A hissing emitted from the statue as it began to rotate. You flicked through the dial, studying the symbols. Both discs had the same pattern.

In a flash, the snake lunged at you, biting your jaw as you stumbled backwards.

“That didn’t sound good,” Ominis said.

“It’s fine,” you asserted, frustration edging into your voice as you wiped the blood from your face with your sleeve. You really should’ve expected something like that.

“Salazar Slytherin didn’t make this easy,” Sebastian observed.

Obviously, you thought as you rolled your eyes. You’d be more than happy to let him take a stab at the dial.

You returned to the other dial. The gate next to it had symbols carved into it, as well. You illuminated your wand and saw that they matched some from the dial. You wished you’d noted that earlier.

“I think matching the dial to the symbols on the gate will open it,” you said.

“It seems Slytherin liked to play games,” Ominis said thoughtfully.

“Must run in the family,” Sebastian quipped.

“Look in a mirror, Sebastian,” Ominis replied irritably.

You quickly aligned the symbols on the dial to the ones sealing the doorway next to it. The serpents on the metal gate shifted, and it raised automatically.

“Matching the symbols did open it,” you said, relieved. You had half expected to be bitten again.

“Was about to do that myself, but you got to it first,” Sebastian said.

You just shot him a waspish look.

He coughed awkwardly. “Nice work,” he said.

You shook your head before continuing forward. In a pit at the end of the corridor, you found a third dial along with another note from Noctua.

I failed the dial, and it struck my face as if it were a real serpent, she started. You scoffed to yourself. Yeah, thanks for the warning, you thought sarcastically as you dabbed at your stinging jaw. She continued on in her letter to decry the way their family forced dark magic on their children.

“Ominis, your aunt wanted to change your family’s traditions,” you said.

“She did,” he confirmed in a wistful voice. “And she was my favourite person in the world for it.”

You felt a pang of sorrow for your friend. He’d lost the only member of his family that had ever been decent to him. You hoped for his sake that this adventure would provide answers as to what happened to her.

You went back to the main room, checking the symbols on the other gate that was still sealed. You went back to the dial that’d bitten you. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you shifted the discs. There were two dials and only one door. You couldn’t be certain which went with it. You were relieved when you heard the metal clanking of the gate opening, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“That sounded promising,” Ominis said.

“Another dial solved,” you replied gleefully as you searched for another door.

“Impressive. Nice work,” Ominis’s silky voice called out almost reverently from the dark.

You chuckled at how similar yet distinct the two Slytherins were, complimenting you with the same words but in entirely different ways.

You entered the newly opened archway. You read yet another note left behind by Noctua, warning of painful challenges but telling of rewards, as well. You relayed the information to your companions.

“Painful – that’s the part I’m wary of,” Ominis said, sounding nervous.

“All I heard was rewards. Keep going,” Sebastian replied with a flippant fort of confidence.

Sure enough, there was another gate at the back of the new room. You wound your way back to the remaining dial and shifted it to match the final gate. Once you aligned the discs, the gate opened with a hiss. You downed a wiggenweld to heal your gashed chin now that you weren’t likely to be bitten again. Hopefully.

“Excellent work,” Sebastian said brightly. “We’re another step closer to the scriptorium.”

Sebastian was just outside the archway when you made it back. “I spotted something ahead,” he said, fear edging into his voice for the first time. “Looks troubling.”

“This whole place is troubling, but, for my aunt’s sake, we cannot stop now,” Ominis replied.

You noted privately that you couldn’t really stop even if you had wanted to. Having only one way forward, the three of you crept into the newly revealed corridor. You had a sinking feeling in your stomach as you stepped inside.

Curiously, the torches lining the space were already lit. More clanking rang out behind you.

“The gate!” Sebastian said in a panicked tone. “I think we’re locked in. Again.”

“Then Salazar Slytherin is not yet finished with us,” Ominis said dismally.

You were inclined to agree. You couldn’t help but think that Noctua’s optimism about the Hogwarts founder was misplaced. You approached the door at the end of the corridor, feeling a cold wash over you like walking through a ghost.

Your heart dropped as you spotted the bones lying in front of the door, right next to the word ‘crucio’ in glowing letters. On the other side of the skeleton, you found another note. With shaking hands, you reread how to proceed. You looked again at the remains of Ominis’s aunt. You felt like you were about to be sick.

“Ominis. A skeleton…And Noctua’s last journal entry. She mentions being trapped here – blocked by an Unforgivable Curse,” you said, unable to bring yourself to put it more directly.

Ominis looked shattered. “This…is where she died,” he said in disbelief. He began pacing in anger. “This is where we’ll die. I shouldn’t have listened to either of you.”

His words struck harder than you would’ve expected.

“Ominis, I’m truly sorry about your aunt,” Sebastian said. “But, I know what to do. It’s going to be difficult.”

You raised an eyebrow at the brunet. You discussed the matter with him. He voiced aloud what you already knew. The only way out was casting the cruciatus curse. Something only one of you had done before. Sebastian implored you to talk to Ominis.

You had already convinced him to go into this despicable place. You couldn’t ask him to cast an unforgivable, too. Sebastian steeled himself to confront him.

“Ominis, I know this is the last thing you want to do–” Sebastian started.

“Yes! It is! I thought you knew me better!” Ominis spat back.

“But this is different,” Sebastian insisted. “Whoever you cast it upon will have agreed to it first. It wouldn’t be an innocent ‘victim.’ We have to open the door.”

“The spell won’t work unless you mean it,” Ominis said. “That’s true of all unforgivables. If it must be done, then one of you must cast it.”

“What do we do now?” you asked Sebastian. “Ominis is not going to cast the cruciatus curse again.”

“Ridiculous!” Sebastian groused. “As if dying in here is a better option than casting a damned spell.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s up to us. I can teach you crucio, or I can cast it on you.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait – you didn’t say you knew how to cast crucio,” you said.

Sebastian pursed his lips. “Because I’m not sure I do,” he replied. “Ominis knows that, yet he’s left us no choice. I don’t yearn to follow in Noctua Gaunt’s footsteps.” He glanced down at the remains. “I think I can cast it if I have to.”

Your stomach twisted at the thought of casting the curse. The hatred required. “I don’t want to learn the curse, but I can handle the pain,” you said more confidently than you felt. “It’s fine. Cast it on me.”

“I shan’t forget this,” Sebastian vowed. He swallowed thickly. “Ready?”

You nodded. “I’m ready,” you said, though your trembling voice betrayed how untrue that was. How could you be ready for such a thing?

Sebastian raised his wand. “Crucio!” he said quickly, before he could lose his nerve.

A red bolt erupted from his wand and struck you. You crumpled to the floor as blinding pain flooded through your whole body. You cried out. It was like molten shrapnel had exploded out from within you, shredding your muscles, tearing apart your organs, and splintering your bones.

“Are you all right?” Sebastian asked, his voice was scared and distant.

You could barely make sense of the words as your senses were overtaken. The red jet arced from you to the door, and it melted away. Jolts of pain still crackled through you as you pushed yourself onto your feet. You struggled to pull air into your lungs.

“A-are you all right?” Ominis asked, clearly shaken.

“That pain,” you groaned. You looked at Ominis’s horrified expression and felt guilt stab into you at the trauma he must be relieving. You couldn’t imagine going through that so young. “It was excruciating, but I’ll survive. Let’s keep moving.”

You just wanted out of there.

Sebastian was enraptured as he entered the room – as if it were sodding Honeydukes and not the lair of a dark wizard. Ominis edged cautiously inside, as well. For once, the door didn’t slam behind you.

You found an old tome and informed Sebastian and Ominis.

“You found something?” Sebastian asked excitedly.

“You two go ahead – let me know what’s in it,” Ominis said, voice still quavering. “I’ll wander around a bit.”

You were about to check on him, but Sebastian appeared at your side. “May I have a look?” he asked, gesturing to the book in your grasp. You handed it over.

“What do you think?” you asked.

“Looks like a spellbook of some kind,” Sebastian replied eagerly. “This is incredible! A Hogwarts founder’s possession – what an honour.” He shook his head. “Still can’t believe Ominis never told me about his aunt and what she found.”

You could. In fact, you wished he’d never brought it up – and that you’d never pushed him on it. “What will you do with Slytherin’s spellbook?” you asked, aiming for a casual tone. Really, you were nervous about his intentions.

Sebastian gave you a playful grin. “What I do with every book – read it! Having professors as parents ingrained that habit early on,” he said lightly. “But I can do that later. For now, I say we explore this room. It’s breathtaking.”

You didn’t feel the same eagerness Sebastian showed – perhaps because he wasn’t the one who had just been tortured. Still, it was a bit shocking to see him so chipper after casting an unforgivable on you mere minutes ago.

“I’ve been getting an uneasy feeling about this place,” Ominis called anxiously up to you both. “We shouldn’t linger here. Let’s find a way out, please.”

Sebastian chuckled. “I don’t want to leave, but I owe you – both of you,” he said. “Without both of you, we’d never have made it this far.”

“We were lucky – we could have died!” Ominis said seriously. “We must swear never to do this again.”

You saw Sebastian roll his eyes. You picked up a note lying on the desk as you tried to shove down your irritation with the boy.

“I see a way out!” Sebastian announced.

“Best news I’ve heard all day,” Ominis replied, breathing a sigh of relief as he climbed the stairs.

You all exited through the hidden doorway.

“Ominis, about your aunt–” Sebastian started as he emerged from the wall back into the dungeon corridor.

“Please, Sebastian,” Ominis cut him off. “I meant what I said before. We swear right now never to engage in anything to do with dark magic again!”

“Understood,” Sebastian replied immediately, much to your surprise. “I’m truly sorry about your aunt, Ominis.”

“I suppose, after all this, I am grateful to know what happened to her,” he said quietly. He turned to you. “Thank you.”

You didn’t know what to say. Sebastian hurried off, probably to go delve into the book. Ominis leaned against the wall, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as he tried to process the night’s events.

You chewed your lip. “Ominis, I’m so sorry I dragged you down there. I hadn’t imagined we’d end up trapped like that,” you said sincerely.

He pushed off the wall, stepping toward you. “Salazar Slytherin did,” he replied darkly. “He’s to blame for many unimaginable things.”

You felt a new wave of fear at Sebastian having his spellbook.

“I’m just glad we made it out of there,” he continued. “How are you doing? The cruciatus curse is pure torture – I would know.”

You nodded. “I’m fine. Sebastian told me a little of what happened when you were young,” you said. “Sounds as if you had no choice.”

Ominis sighed. “Should’ve known he would’ve told you,” he muttered. “And one always has a choice. I’m as guilty as the worst of my family. Like I said, unforgivable curses won’t work unless you really mean them. I had to want to cause pain, and for that I shall never forgive myself. I will regret casting it forever.”

You flinched as you thought of the pain that had surged through you less than half an hour ago. Sebastian had wanted you to feel it. You couldn’t imagine feeling that way toward him or Ominis, especially now that you knew what it was like.

Warm fingers slipped into your hand, and you looked up to see Ominis’s brow furrowed in concern. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I should’ve insisted we found another way out. Really, I shouldn’t have told Sebastian about the scriptorium in the first place. I am glad to know what happened to my aunt, but…not at your expense.”

You swallow thickly as you stared up at his kind face. “I’m all right, really,” you said.

He arched a brow at you. “Don’t lie to me,” he said firmly. “I can feel your hand shaking.”

You realized he was right. Your muscles were twitching with aftershocks from the curse. You suspected they had been since Sebastian’s curse released. You were just so out of sorts that you hadn’t noticed. “Oh,” you said dimly.

Ominis laced his fingers with yours. “Let’s get you some tea and a blanket. You must be freezing,” he said.

You were freezing, you realized. Ominis led you into the Slytherin common room. You just followed him numbly. It was like your body had reacted to the pain by shutting off your senses. Your mind had been overwhelmed. You felt like you were moving through fog now.

Before you knew it, you had a hot cup of tea in your hands and a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Ominis rubbed slow circles on your back. His touch grounded you, keeping you from slipping into the recesses of your mind.

“Is this how you felt after?” you asked, turning your glazed eyes toward Ominis.

He stiffened, his hand freezing in place, as his features contorted in a grimace. You could see his throat bob as he swallowed.

“Sorry,” you said quickly. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

Ominis shook his head. “I expect so,” he said thoughtfully, answering your question. “I would have a tremor and feel a numbing cold. One of our elves tended to me after the first time. My mother locked me in my room, and he brought me tea and tucked me into bed with extra blankets even though she’d instructed them to leave me alone. He…He also knew how it felt.” His jaw tensed. “My family distributes their cruelty quite generously.” He spat out the last sentence like venom.

You felt tears prick your eyes. “I’m sorry you both went through that,” you said.

He just nodded.

“The numbness wears off after a while,” he said as he resumed the languid circles on back. “Then it’s like…your senses are frayed. Everything is just…too much. Noise. Scents. Everywhere is too hot or too cold. Even clothes are…Well, you get the idea.”

His cheeks were coloured pink.

“How long until that starts?” you asked. It sounded dreadful.

“Maybe an hour from now?” he said. He cleared his throat. “I found that a warm bath in a quiet room helps. Not hot but body temperature. It’s almost like floating in nothing. I expect you’d want the room dark, as well, but I really wouldn’t know.”

He chuckled, and you couldn’t help but laugh, as well. You sipped your tea, and you felt yourself relax slightly as the warm liquid slid down your throat. A shiver ran through you, and you tucked into Ominis’s side, resting your head on his shoulder.

He was caught by surprise, but he quickly wrapped his arm around you, holding you tightly to himself. He even rested his head on top of yours.

You stayed like that for a long time. Ominis traced his wand down a schoolbook with the hand not holding you. He checked in every once in a while to make sure you hadn’t run out of tea, casting a charm to refill your cup when needed. Slowly, your tremor subsided and your body warmed. The cold nothingness that had enveloped you was eventually replaced by a sort of static. It was barely noticeable at first, but it grew more and more grating. You felt stifled between the fire, blanket, and Ominis’s warm body next to you. You had to set your tea down because it was scalding. Your uniform scratched like sandpaper over every inch of your skin. The crackling of the flames and students speaking in low voices grew louder until the noises pounded in your ears. The dim common room seemed blindingly bright. Even the usually calming scent of Ominis’s cologne was an attack on your senses.

You groaned as you curled into yourself. Ominis scooted away from you, and you felt a pang of guilt at the relief it gave you.

“Let’s get you that bath,” Ominis said quietly as he tucked his book into his bag.

He grabbed your sleeve and tugged you to the lavatory. You cast a charm to block the windows. Only the faintest light filtered through. You sagged against one of the sinks, holding your frazzled head in your hands. Ominis filled a tub with a water-making charm, knowing the rush from the taps would be deafening. He heated the water with another spell, dipping his hand it to ensure it was the right temperature. He even set out a towel for you.

“All set,” he said gently. “I’ll relock the door on my way out so no one disturbs you.”

“Could you…stay?” you asked sheepishly.

You could just make out Ominis’s eyes as they widened. “Oh,” he squeaked. “Erm, yes, I suppose so. Are you sure you want me to?”

“I’d rather not be alone,” you admitted, wincing at your own voice as it seemed to boom out from you. “And, well, it’s not like you can see anything…right?”

He chuckled softly. “You’re correct,” he whispered.

He moved to a window seat on the far wall, and you slipped out of your robes. Despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, your cheeks flushed as you stood naked in a room with Ominis in it. The cold air was like ice on your skin. You quickly climbed into the bath. It was like applying a balm to a sunburn. You really did feel wrapped in nothing as you were surrounded by water exactly the same temperature as you. You closed your eyes, shutting out the last bit of light.

You felt the tension that had been mounting melt out of your body. The only sensations aside from the cool air on your face were the sound of your own breathing and occasional turn of a page as Ominis read. You couldn’t even hear his breaths from where he sat.

With time, your breathing stopped seeming so loud and you stopped noticing the temperature of the room as much. The water in your tub was exactly as warm as it’d been when you slipped inside. You realized Ominis must’ve charmed it to stay that way. He was quite a talented wizard.

You sat up a bit in the tub, leaning your head back on the edge of it, but you kept your eyes closed. You weren’t ready to take in visual stimuli again just yet. “Ominis?” you asked, pleased when the word didn’t ring in your ears.

“Yes, MC?” he replied quietly.

“Thank you. For helping me. It…it would’ve been awful to go through this alone,” you said.

There was a pause before he answered. “I’m sorry you have to go through it at all.”

You opened your eyes to look at him. “It’s not your fault,” you said. You turned, hooking your elbow over the side of the tub as you faced him. “I’m the one who convinced you to go down there.”

“Yes, but I should’ve known better,” he said sadly. “I just…I was so consumed by the need to know what happened to my aunt. I went against my better judgment. It won’t happen again.”

“Same here. I have no interest in investigating anything to do with Slytherin again,” you replied. “I hope Sebastian meant it when he said he’s done.”

“He’s never lied to me before,” Ominis said confidently. “But…if he does mention anything to you, tell me, okay?”

“I will,” you promised. To be honest, you felt like you could tell Ominis anything.

“Good,” Ominis said with a small smile, but it was quickly replaced with a look of concern. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” you said truthfully. “Is there another phase after this?”

Ominis pressed his mouth into a thin line. Even when upset, his features were as handsome as ever. It really wasn’t fair. “No, but this one tends to linger. You’ll feel on edge for a few days. Maybe a week, even. It tends to last longer the more times you’ve been cursed, so hopefully it’s just a few days for you,” he said, forcing a hopeful smile onto his lips.

You blinked rapidly as a thought struck you. “Did your family curse you multiple times?” you asked, aghast.

He turned his face back toward his book as he schooled his features. “Yes,” he said in a barely audible voice.

“Oh, Ominis, that’s awful!” you said. You wished you could give him a hug, but as you were naked and sopping wet, it wasn’t exactly an opportune time.

He gave a mirthless laugh. “That’s the Gaunts for you. We specialize in ‘awful.’”

“Not all of you,” you argued. “Not your aunt. Not you.”

“Recent evidence would suggest otherwise,” he said. He hung his head. “Not to mention my past mistakes.”

“But that’s just it. It was a mistake. It doesn’t define you, Ominis,” you insisted. “Do you think the rest of your family would’ve cared enough to help me?”

He scoffed. “Certainly not.”

You just waited, letting him consider the facts for himself.

He sighed as he turned back toward you. “I suppose you have a point.”

You smiled. “I know I do.”

Ominis chuckled, and it was a beautiful sound – if a bit loud at the moment.

You decided you’d soaked long enough and got out of the bath. You cringed as you patted yourself dry. The towel wasn’t quite sandpaper like your clothes had been before, but your skin still felt raw. “How long until clothes feel normal again?” you asked, hoping the answer was soon.

“It all progresses together, so it’ll take a few days,” Ominis said with an apologetic grimace.

You let out a groan. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

He held out his hand. “Here. Give me your clothes.”

You wrapped the towel around yourself before scooping up your uniform and padding over to him. You set the outfit in his open hand.

He cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said. Standing so close now, you could see the blush spread over his cheeks.

Your face flushed, too, when you realized you could’ve just levitated the clothes over. You cringed again, but at yourself this time.

Ominis waved his wand as he uttered an unfamiliar incantation. He handed your outfit back to you. It was silky smooth against your skin. It took what was left of your good sense not to drop your scratchy towel and change immediately. You shuffled off to the other side of the room to get dressed.

“That’s so much better!” you gushed once you’d donned the silk ensembled. “Thank you, Ominis.”

“Of course,” he replied. “I’m happy to help you with anything. I mean, anytime! I’m happy to help anytime.”

As you walked back over to his window seat, you could tell he was still blushing. You couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’ll help you with anything, too,” you replied.

“Yeah?” he asked with a hopeful expression.

You chewed your lip, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you looked down at him. You raised a hand to cup his cheek, and his chin tilted up slightly as his eyes drifted shut. You leaned down, brushing your lips softly against his. In your current state, his lips felt a bit rough but pleasantly warm on yours. Nevertheless, the tender kiss sent a jolt of excitement through you. “Yeah,” you replied.

His tongue flicked out over his lips, and he smirked up at you.

The door rattled as someone tried to enter the locked lavatory. The sudden noise made you jump back.

“Ugh! This is the second time this week!” a muffled but clearly frustrated voice grumbled from the other side.

“Come one, let’s use the one upstairs,” another, much more defeated, voice replied.

“We should probably get moving,” you said, unable to stop the grin that graced your lips.

Ominis chuckled. “Yes, I suppose we should,” he agreed.

You both made your way toward the door. Ominis was much more graceful in the dim lighting than you were, and you almost stumbled right into one of the empty tubs. Fortunately, Ominis either didn’t notice or politely pretended not to. He turned to you right in front of the door, his fingers resting on the handle. He shifted nervously between his feet.

“Once you’re feeling like yourself again, would you like to get dinner with me at the Three Broomsticks?” he asked with an endearingly anxious expression.

You beamed at him. “I’d like that very much.”

He grinned as he pulled the door open for you. “It’s a date, then.”

Of all the things you’d thought you might find in Slytherin’s Scriptorium, a budding romance hadn’t been one of them. Not that you were complaining. Not one bit.

[nova--spark]

Earth 101 : A Manual for the Visiting Cybertronian

Chapter Six: Proper Use of Holoforms

Holographic hard light disguises , known as holomatter forms or more commonly as holoforms are our way to interact with a planet when our natural form is too large or matters dangerous and dubious where we do not wish to risk our frame and spark.

These holoforms are capable of interacting from hundreds of miles away, with a max of 400 miles away from us, and generally are formed to match the native species of a planet.

Many bots have customized their forms in order to best suit them, be it in the gender of the form, the voice, the appearance, and overall aesthetics.

They are linked to us completely, and can be anything from a simple projected disguise, as an Autobot by the name of Arcee was happy to inform for this chapter, as she uses her projection when without her partner, so to blend in and appear to have a driver in her alt-mode.

They can also be so lifelike that they can interact with their surroundings to a near indiscernible degree.

That said, there is a certain set of rules one must follow concerning the holoforms on Earth.

A set of rules that has been amended so many times, dear reader, that even now, new rules are being added as the list is unending at this moment.

Especially as particular members of our kin tend to test the limits of these forms, which should sometimes not be tested.

Most commonly, is the attempt to try and consume human meals of varying degrees, which has resulted in less than favorable reports from human agents in alliance with the Autobot forces.

Holoforms, we must remind, are not made to consume human meals, and so, reactions may vary between user and the outcome afterwards when one does attempt to consume any sort of meal.

They have described the manner in which a holoform eats, and behaves to be rather unnerving, as they lack a lot of minute details and reactions that humans normally have.

One such example is how humans' chests rise and fall with their breathing, much like how our frames move when venting, but as humans are always breathing, unlike ourselves, it is a detail that can feel odd to those around a holoform.

Another detail is blinking, something that we also clearly do, but not as often as humans do it seems.

A lot of these minor but meaningful details of our holoforms behaviors have been described to resemble what humans know as the ‘uncanny valley’ effect.

Uncanny Valley has been described [by humans who volunteered testimony for this chapter] as an unsettling and disturbing sensation in response to not quite human creatures that appear vaguely humanoid, but are in fact not.

Which is an understandable sensation upon further inspection of the holoforms of many of our ranks.

We also implore that those rare few who seek romantic relations with humans try and recall the limitations of a holoform, and that is as far as this part of the manual will speak of such matters.

Holoforms are life like, but even they have their limits on certain parameters.

Though I myself have no experience with a holoform, having never really left the archives too much to require usage of one, I have noted that it is the Autobots who are closest to humans whom best know how to replicate the behaviors of humans.

Arcee has reported the most experience with holoforms due to her alt mode and the required usage of one due to her missions and to avoid suspicion when out on the streets.

Many other bots have noted usage of holoforms to be vital when concerning missions in rural areas, or highly dense populace zones, where blending in can be vital in order to avoid suspicions that would cause reports to local authorities.

How we present ourselves in a holoform is also a very personal matter.

Many choose to use their holoform in the manner of styling their visage to resemble their alt mode’s function, or the typical user or driver of their alt mode would dress like.

This is especially evident in military alt modes, as well as street and race alt modes, who will choose holoforms to resemble officers, race professionals, but with representations of their color scheme upon them in order to best portray themselves.

For some however, a holoform is also a manner by which to honor others.

Bumblebee, who shared a small but meaningful testimonial for this chapter, has stated that he has connected with many humans over the years, and has used their memory, when they have long been gone, to shape his holoform.

One that he spoke of, was of a young Witwicky boy, who he bonded with heavily in his first few years on Earth when he was on the move, and scouting Earth alone.

But he also spoke of a young lady from a seaside city, who gave him his namesake of ‘Bumblebee’. 

His most current form is one that represents himself, with some help from his young partner from Nevada, but he has stated sometimes, he just wants to feel like he is back in those days, times where he wishes to drive with old friends.

Even Optimus Prime has been reported to have had a holoform, when not having agents accompany or ride in the cab of his alt-mode.

I was unable to get into contact with him for a testimonial, but his holoform was described to pay homage to someone quite dear to the Prime, of the humans he has met.

To use a holoform, in a way which honors humans that have formed unforgettable bonds with us, is a way of showing how meaningful they are to us.

I reviewed many testimonials, some from our oldest to our youngest, and all held forms which paid some form of respect to humans they held dear.

Regardless, holoforms should be a skin [or rather, holographic one] that all Cybertronians for different walks of life should feel most comfortable in, no matter the form they take.

Plenty of bots take forms that differ from what one would imagine, but in the end, it is meant to be the form they are most comfortable above all else.

If any would like to give testimonials regarding the meaning behind their own holoforms or how they found theirs and wish to provide guidance to aid others, please do submit via proper channels.

Perhaps I too will try and form my own holoform in the future.

[raphsmuneca]

Smooches

♥*♡∞:｡.｡ 💋 ｡.｡:∞♡*♥

⚠️18+ • soft smut • inappropriate behavior • dirty lingo • short-shorts • Tmnt bayverse⚠️ Tmnt Bay Leo x reader (aged 30+) <- my preference 🫶🏼

@thelaundrybitch this quickie is for you 😉 😎 😜

💖A pre-valentine treat 💖

You’ve been teasing him for far too long. Is he afraid? Fuck no. If you thought so then you were sorely mistaken. He’s not the prude you believe him to be. He’s a gentleman, that’s all. NOT! He may have been the respectable soldier, but beneath the surface, he was every bit a man.

He decided it was time to put an end to your facade. It was shortly after you waved your goodbyes. You navigated through the tunnels for a whole of two minutes then you felt a sudden tug.

He swiftly pulled you in, spun you around and pinned you, face first, against the stone cold wall. He covered your mouth with one large left hand before you yelped. Your face was turned to the right of you where he met you, snout to nose. His labored breathing and tense muscles were obvious indicators that he was rapidly reconsidering his impulsive action. You felt his warm plastron through the thin fabric against your back.

You were freaking out, but held your composure. You’ve been aching for his nearness for a long time, but you never expected this! Did he think you a traitor? You had to let him know you were very much his friend and would never do anything to jeopardize…wait. What’s this? His cock (which was the length and width of your forearm) pressed against your buttocks. Your mind experienced a nuclear explosion. It suddenly became empty. Your ghost sought refuge in the high heavens. What in the holy fuck is going on right now?!

His hands were tracing a path up and down your thighs, extending to the contours of your hips and the indentation of your exposed navel. You let out a whimper. His touch generated a burning sensation on your skin, wherever he touched, you felt yourself sinking deeper.

“You thought you had me all figured out, huh?” He nuzzled against your nose and face. “Mmm…What if I tell you I wish to steal a kiss from you?” He released his left hand so that you may speak. You would have replied, except that you were momentarily breathless and feared you’d collapse right then. Instead, you licked your lips.

Your thoughts vanished the instant he bit your lower lip. The way your pussy pulsed just then. Ohmygahh. Fksksjdbsyhsbs!!!! The sensation of the thick annuli encircling his scutes against the small of your back was a potent reminder of how real the moment was. He took another bite. And another. He then proceeded to leave trails of saliva up and down your neck, eventually taking advantage of your open mouth to thrust his tongue deep into your throat. His lips enveloped yours, tongues rhythmically entwining in a fervent quest.

He stopped and pivoted you to face him. The massive terrapin rose high above you. You felt unusually tiny all of a sudden. He gently lifted your chin upward with the tip of his index finger. You became captivated by the depth of his sapphire eyes. You could easily become lost in their beauty. What a fantastical creature. Your knees weakened and you began to lose balance, but he quickly caught you and positioned you over his massive frame. You let out a huff once you settled into place, straddling him.

He lowered his head and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your burning cheeks. “Open your mouth for me again.” (Yes daddy!) In comparison his mouth and tongue were wide, yet he managed to work around your smaller mouth to artfully deliver delectable kisses. The moment was raw, your womanhood was ablaze, but his broad arms kept you in place. The feel of his rugged skin against your smooth one was bewitching.

To have Leo all over you like this was enthralling. What prompted his shift from a stern, inflexible leader to this ravenous turtle man? Regardless of the answer, the less you were concerned as he tenderly kissed your mouth and down your neck and slightly into the hollow of your bosom and back up again. Your hips began a slow, rhythmic motion. You hadn’t acknowledged it until he cupped your waist in his hold and brought you nearer, allowing you to feel his firmness against your inner thighs. Breaking away from his fervent kiss, a hasty "Oh!" escaped your mouth. You hid your face in his chest, attempting to mask your embarrassment.

“Don’t be shy, baby. You know you like it.”

At that you punched him in the chest.

“That tickles you know?”

His chuckle was soft, but you were too proud and feigned annoyance.

He too was skilled in this game. His smile disappeared. He looked even hungrier than before. His stare grew more intense. His mouth started to water. He licked his lips and launched a more ferocious attack on your mouth this time. This kiss was distinct. It possessed greater passion. Something you said or did must have triggered him. This kiss wasn't driven by lust like the previous one. It was more profound. It was ardent and all-consuming.

You were once again enveloped in his affectionate grasp. Your hips began to sway at a more rapid pace. In a short time, your body was seized by a powerful physical response, induced by the erotic pleasure of the intimate bodily contact. He knew what he was doing. He was aware of his actions. He took pleasure in witnessing your vulnerability around him. It turned him on when you challenged him, but he needed to set the record straight.

“Next time you tease me, just know I’ll be waiting for you.”

OMFG! You got gotten!

With a wink, he left you in your disheveled state, mouth agape.

“Damn you, Leo.”

A residual string of words escaped his mouth before he vanished quickly.

“Tonight I stole a kiss. Tomorrow I steal your heart.”

You looked in the direction from which the reverberated words echoed. There was no discernible shape, only whispers. You were uncertain whether to be grateful for the intense heat you both shared, however brief, or shocked by this new revelation. Was he in love with you?

“You’ve already done that…”

You spoke the words, aware that there was no one nearby to hear them. Leo had already departed. He was that quick. You collected your thoughts and smoothed your hair with your fingers. Following a brief moment to compose yourself, you turned and headed back towards your home.

Except you were mistaken. He was present throughout, observing from the shadows. His heartbeat was irregular. Your words left him astonished. He was satisfied with himself. He had claimed you as his own from the beginning, even if you didn't reciprocate his emotions. The act of stealing your kiss was merely his attempt to confirm whether his suspicions were correct and that you shared his feelings.

He promptly returned to his quarters. He hadn’t quite finished his task when he released you. He engaged in self-pleasuring in your name. In the aftermath of said sweet release, he reflected on his next move.

♥*♡∞:｡.｡ 💋 ｡.｡:∞♡*♥

@the-cauldron-witch @ninnosaurus @iridescentflamingo @ferox-imagines @sophiacloud28 @milykins @adebauchedsloth @justalotoffanfiction @thepinkpanther83 @dilucsflame33 @foxflamewarrior @m1dnyt3-w0lf @eveandtheturtles @inspiredwriter @replicasey @akari180 @iheartchv @leosgirl82 @fyreball66 @moonlightflower21 @happymoonangel @imthegreenfairy86

・𝓲𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓭 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓭/𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓭 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓵𝓶𝓴! ・

𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭!

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Don't Stop (Sandman One-Shot)

​GIF: Originally posted by @imironstark

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: One-shot. Reader self-insert. Smut. You and Morpheus are in the exploratory stages of your relationship. Morpheus asks to worship you, and all is going well. At least, that is, until you start to wake up...

Warnings: Minors DNI. Smut. Porn with plot. Kissing. Oral sex (AFAB receiving). Slight dominant Morpheus.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: So I watched Sweetbitter. With my partner. Maybe not the best idea because suppressing the squeaks of excitement whenever Tom came on screen was tough and not always 100% effective! The hyper fixation is still going strong... Hope you enjoy this one. All my love, Saskia xxx

Sandman Masterlist

-------------------------------------------------

It is only when the violent spinning not only stops but holds for several minutes after, does Morpheus make steps in allowing his guard to drop.

He straightens elegantly out of his crouching position, withdrawing his hands from the scree smattered earth. He looks to his left, to Lucienne, who is warily regarding the ground and sky, wondering if they might start to rapidly switch places again.

She meets Morpheus' gaze and adjusts her round-framed spectacles with a steady hand.

"I might be speaking too soon, sir, but I truly think it is over now."

Morpheus takes one last steely appraisal of the horizon, almost daring it to misbehave.

He nods once. "I believe you are correct, Lucienne."

"Will you be requiring anything else from me, my lord?"

"Not at present."

"Very well," Lucienne replies with a warm smile. "I will return to the palace now."

She does a little incline of the head in deference and goes to start the winding walk back towards the glowing lights of the Dreaming's seat of power.

Morpheus calls to his friend.

"I thank you for your persistence in supporting me to resolve these issues. I suggest you take some extra hours to rest."

"I suggest you do the same, sir."

Though her reply is innocuous, the knowing gleam in Lucienne's brown eyes hints at an alternative interpretation, one that Morpheus cannot help but notice.

It was becoming generally well known that he was in the early stages of courtship with a dreamer, you, and there was no doubt that Lucienne was aware of how far the relationship with you had recently gone.

He raises an eyebrow in response, earning a grin from Lucienne and then he watches her walk away.

Once alone, Morpheus allows his eyes to flutter closed as he sifts through the myriad of dormant minds and tunes into the space occupied by yours. He takes a reading of your emotions, thankful to find that you are contented and have not been rendered feeling neglected by his absence.

There's a faint undercurrent lingering below the surface level of your emotions that he is also able to lock on to given the familiarity that you share.

Desire.

They are present, filling you with neediness and longing.

A longing to be touched, to be touched by him.

Morpheus is with you in seconds, appearing in the doorway of the room you have chosen to conceal yourself in.

You are curled up in a large armchair by a panoramic window that frames the mountainous vista beyond. The torches that mark equidistant points along the bridge leading to the palace project a soft gleaming warmth over your skin. You are gazing softly at the landscape, the fingertips of one hand combing through your hair, the others trailing up and down your inner thigh.

Such an innocent yet provocative display. It makes Morpheus' voice drop to an even deeper and more sultry register than usual as he calls to you.

You are out of the chair instantly, meeting him at the threshold of the room. Your heart pumps out an allegro drum beat, the sound of the blood rushing in your ears like a waterfall.

You are pulled into a searing kiss, arms encircle your waist to ensure you are flush against his hips and chest. It is a relief that he is holding you in such a way for your knees are threatening to give out within seconds.

The power he has, in his body, his actions, through his words, in a metaphysical sense; you are helpless against them all.

When Morpheus pulls away from the kiss, you follow him on instinct, aching for more. He smiles faintly at your eagerness but maintains the gap in order to explain his length of absence.

"I must apologise, Y/N. The issue was a little more complex than Lucienne and I had anticipated."

He's looking down with a tint of shame in his aquamarine eyes.

You slide your hands up his forearms, gripping tightly and angling your head so you can capture his gaze.

"There is nothing to be sorry for. Your work and the safety of your dreamers take priority."

He simply nods. Your unwavering understanding is always on the side of overwhelming for him.

You register this in his stance.

"You feel a little tense. I can help with that if you want. Like I did last night?"

You move a hand up to stroke the hair on the back of his head. It is a form of touch that never fails to release tension.

Morpheus indulges in your attentions for a bit, leaning into you and sighing deeply, before staring at you directly with sudden seriousness.

"I cannot deny that what you did for me yesterday was beyond exquisite," He leans in to speak by your ear. "But it is my turn to worship you."

"Oh," you swallow down your surprise. "Okay."

Morpheus wastes no time in guiding you back towards the armchair and sits you on the very edge of the seat pad.

He carefully removes his long sweeping coat and then drops to his knees before you.

His rosy lips are parted, eyes dark pools, both standing out against his beautifully pale skin.

"Where can I touch you?" He asks urgently.

"Everywhere," you reply as the flutterings in your stomach warble your voice.

He begins by trailing his hands up your legs. The patterns he draws are intricate and intoxicating.

"May I have the honour of tasting you?"

"Yes," you consent, breathless already.

You remove your trousers and underwear in the same movement and allow Morpheus to adjust your position.

The image of him looking up at you with lust and intent as he parts your legs is immediately imprinted deep within your memories.

He trails innocent kisses up your left calf to your knee. A long-fingered hand is hooked under it and once Morpheus slips your leg over his shoulder, he continues his path along your inner thigh.

Wisps of his midnight hair tickle your skin and make you squirm in the most delicious way. You whimper when you feel his cool breath hit your pulsing core.

Morpheus speaks your name reverently, a taster of what was about to come.

He leans in the last few inches and kisses your vulva. You melt with an ecstasy-filled exhale. His tongue gently licks at your labia, encouraging them to part and expose your clit. He laps at you with precise strokes before sealing his mouth over the nub.

It's like a direct current has been shot into your body; you jolt into him, moaning his name with abandon.

He hums against you, lips curling into a naughty smirk. You are completely at his mercy and he knows it all too well.

He manipulates your clit between his plush lips and the pleasure reaches a higher ground.

"Whatever you do, please don't stop," you beg.

Morpheus obeys, slowly increasing and decreasing the pressure of his suckling until you are almost unable to think clearly anymore.

Then, suddenly, you are distracted by a strange feeling radiating through your body. You recognise it with immediacy. It's like you are being dragged upwards by a marionette string. You are waking up.

You stiffen, falling silent, hoping above all hope that if you stay still, you can stave off the pull back to consciousness.

Morpheus, noticing your change in demeanour, stops his attentions and pulls away.

He speaks your name in a caring tone, "Are you alright?"

You grab the arm rests in a further attempt to keep yourself in the Dreaming. The sensation isn't letting up.

You respond with haste, "I think I'm waking up. I don't think I can stop it."

Waking had been the cause of cutting short your time with Morpheus many times before. It was to be expected; you were a human being with things like sunlight and birdsong and routines to contend with. The worst had been mid-way through a conversation, one that you were able to pick up again the next time you passed the Dreaming threshold.

Right here while Morpheus was working on you so perfectly, however left you with one thought: Why did it have to be now?

Your surroundings flicker and all sound becomes warped. The support of Morpheus' body and the chair vanish.

"I'm sorry." They are the last words you speak before you disappear.

You come to in the semi-darkness of your bedroom. Your chest is heaving and wetness has spilled onto your pyjamas from the dream of Morpheus lavishing your aroused core.

Your phone is blasting out a morning alarm, its shrillness the clear root of you disappearing on him.

It turns out though, initially unknown to you, that Morpheus was having none of this separation business. That is until you notice him sitting between your splayed legs.

"Morpheus?! What are you -"

"You asked me not to stop, my dearest dreamer," he interrupts, pouring every ounce of seductive energy into the words as he can muster.

Morpheus' eyes bore into yours as he climbs up to fully straddle your body. He reaches over you to turn off the alarm with a precise tap on the screen of your phone. He takes a deep breath.

"Much better," he purrs. The pitch of his voice is pleasure enough on its own, even without the fact that his hips are subtly grinding against yours.

"Now, would you like to resume with what we were doing before we were so rudely interrupted by that repugnant tone?"

You nod.

"Verbal consent, please."

It's suddenly so hard to speak now he is in your bedroom, your domain. You hope that a clear display will be an acceptable alternative. You reach your hands down to rid yourself of your pyjamas only to have each wrist pinned either side of your head.

You gasp.

"I need to hear you say it out loud, Y/N."

Another wave of hot, stifling arousal is released between your legs. You shiver in reaction to it, to his dominance.

Your mouth is open but no coherent words leave it, just the starts of failed sentences. Morpheus comes to your aid:

"Will you allow me to taste you here, in the waking world, just as I did in my own realm?"

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes, Morpheus. Please. Put your mouth on me."

He hums his approval before lowering your shorts and beginning to feast on you once more.

---------------------------------------------------

Tag List: @herfantasyworldd @shadowqueen1318

[luvkirby4ever]

Absolutely massive lore drops from Shadow Generations

Gerald Robotnik had 2 sons (which we have a picture of!!) whom he loved very much. One of them had Gerald's love of archaeology, the other his love of robotics.

The archaeology son is the one who initially discovered Emerl.

Gerald had found Angel Island and the altar of the Master Emerald but left things alone because he wanted to be respectful to the land.

^This explains why the Eclipse Cannon's core has a structure shaped like the shrine in SA2.

SPEAKING OF SA2... you know those cameos of Big the Cat in (the Dreamcast version of) SA2? Yeah, those are canon. Apparently he loses Froggy a lot which causes him to go on a ton of adventures. He even tells Shadow that he saw him running past a few times on the ARK.

Gerald was absolutely adamant about his research being used to help people, not develop weapons. He seems to have been constantly clashing heads with GUN who would not fund his research (which was to try and cure Maria) unless he was making weapons.

^Because of this, any weapons he developed (or in Emerl's case, studied) had some sort of counterbalance that Gerald would add in order to make the weapon suck less (see following couple of points).

He hoped that the technology that he developed to make Artificial Chaos (AI that can be added to any body of water to shape it as needed) would be used to help save flood victims by scooping them up out of the debris.

While studying Emerl he established a link and noted that since Emerl wouldn't listen to anybody else that at least he wouldn't be used for evil. He also attempted to change Emerl's AI to become "free-willed and emotions-based."

He didn't want to develop the Eclipse Cannon so it was purposely made to be too destructive to be useful. He figured he'd also use it to deal with Black Doom.

Project Shadow was named as such because Gerald thought the goverment were idiots for trying to make him pursue something as impossible as immortality. He saw it "as intangible as a shadow" and described the project as impossible as "chasing a shadow."

But when Maria saw Shadow she said "shadows let you know which way the light is" and Gerald remarked that she turned his bitter naming convention into something hopeful and pure.

Speaking of Project Shadow... we have a picture of Maria holding the little baby Biolizard!

Gerald developed the Chaos Drives (those things that come out of GUN robots that you feed your Chao in SA2) to try and apply Chaos Emerald energy to living tissue without damaging it. He used them on the Biolizard.

Gerald reluctantly provided GUN Chaos Drives so that he could continue researching a cure for Maria.

Maria loved the Biolizard.

The Biolizard grew large because of the experiments... which its body couldn't support. Thus the life-support apparatus on its back, though it seemed to be in great physical pain. It was hidden away in the area you fight it in SA2.

^These failures are why Gerald struck up a deal with Black Doom. Without Doom's DNA Shadow would have gone the same way as the Biolizard.

Maria has a little sister!!!

Maria was born on Earth and sent to the ARK because the low-gravity environment makes her condition more manageable. Gerald's journal makes it sound like Maria's sister was born after she got up there but in-game Maria mentions how she misses her sister so maybe not?

@nagichi-boop (I hope it's okay to tag you) has a nice post talking about the excellent "invisible disability" representation. Both Gerald's journal and Maria discuss aspects of her disability, including Gerald's anger the over ARK researchers who talk about Maria behind her back.

Maria helped develop Shadow's air shoes and inhibitor rings, her insight valuable as these are framed as disability aids.

If Shadow takes off the inhibitor rings, he'd probably explode.

Maria and Shadow were taught by a lady teacher aboard the ARK. Shadow never turned in his homework.

The only thing Maria ever saw Shadow consume was coffee.

Maria met Big in the white space and instantly loved him. Big asked Maria and Gerald if they wanted to go fishing.

Omega is not powered by Animals, Chaos Drives, or any Emerald-based mechanism. He mentions something about absorbing environmental energy or something? The takeaway is that he's probably not destined to end up like most robots in the series (dead) because he doesn't have a power source that's going to screw him over.

E-123 "I don't have emotions" Omega was worried about Rogue and values Shadow and Rogue's friendship. Just don't call it friendship.

Maria being up on the ARK for so long was causing strain and division between Gerald and his sons. Gerald was desperate to cure Maria and get his family back.

Big has met Elise.

Commander Tower was the only other kid aboard the ARK.

Gerald gave Shadow some pre-set memories so that his awakening would go smoothly. Maria and him became friends instantly.

According to Maria, Shadow is more confident now than when she knew him.

Gerald called Shadow son. I'm not crying you are.

Both in the journal and in-game Gerald mentions how he is sorry for the trouble and weight that he has placed on Shadow (because of needing to strike a deal with Black Doom).

Emerl was handed over to GUN to try and buy more time for Maria's research. GUN reestablished a link by showing him an increasingly dangerous amount of weapons until Emerl started to freak out and destroy stuff. One of his rampages caused an automatic SOS ping to be sent out...

...It was that ping that summoned the soldiers who killed Maria.

[acourtofmusings]

Penumbra - Series Introduction

pə-ˈnəm-brē : a space of partial illumination between the perfect shadow on all sides and the full light; a grey area

Pairing: Azriel x Reader Total Word Count: tbd

Summary: The inner circle has been sorely lacking a well-versed scholar, and luckily for them Y/N happens to bump into Nesta at a local romance book lovers convention. Her arrival comes just in time to flank reports that an ally of the Night Court is plotting something world-shattering. Despite every warning bell going off in her mind, she offers her assistance and finds herself enveloped in a dangerous game. Everything is at stake, and Y/N finds herself with a whole lot to lose when a certain Spymaster steps out of the shadows and into her light.

A/N: My falling-asleep fantasy scenarios have been extra intriguing recently, so naturally I'm turning to the world of fanfiction. For now, enjoy this teaser.

Chapter One (coming soon)

If there had ever been one thing that proved itself a constant in your life it was your need for the concrete. Black or white, those were the options. But ever since you had found yourself intertwined with the rambunctious group sitting with you in the large VIP booth at Ritas, things had steadily been muddling up into a daunting shade of grey. You smile at the sound of Cassian's boisterous laughter and take another sip from the drink you have been nursing for the better part of an hour. Nesta's calculated gaze lands on you from her place next to her mate.

"Y/N," she purrs, "You feeling okay?"

You nod and set your drink back down on the tabletop, tracing the rim with your finger. Your gaze begins a slow sweep across the other members of the inner circle, all sucked into their own individual conversations.

"I'm fine, Nesta. Just...taking it all in."

She lets a corner of her mouth quirk up, her subtle version of a well-meaning smile. "You'll get used to the noise eventually. They can get a bit caught up in themselves, but they mean well. Give it time."

Your gaze eventually settles onto the brooding spymaster who is currently nursing a double scotch on the rocks with the same level of disinterest as you. Shadows curl lazily over his shoulders, framed by powerful wings that are tucked tight against his back. He's leaning back into the cushion of the booth seat, listening to Mor's umpteenth dramatic tale of the evening. The movement of his shadows camouflages the swirls of black ink peeking from underneath his button down, and you take a moment to try and decipher what parts of the mesmerizing display are alive and which are tattooed. You fail miserably, reminding you again just how much you can't stand the nuance that surrounds this group of powerful fae. You force your eyes back over to your new friend, who now holds a gleam of mischief in her eyes.

"Perhaps you should put down all of those ancient texts and become a spy instead."

You furrow your brow at her suggestion.

"Why would I do something like that?"

She chuckles to herself and pulls her own glass to her lips, finishing the remainder of the brightly colored drink. "You certainly enjoy starring just as much as he does."

You feel heat creep across your neck as you realize you were caught, and hope the swig of your drink that you take is enough for her to think it's a flush from the alcohol. You twist your face at the taste and shiver slightly as the burn runs down your throat.

"Thats what you get for ordering the well liquor," Nesta teases, "Rhys would happily add you to his tab if you stopped being so fucking stubborn. And don't think that amusing display gets you off the hook with me."

Cassian's wings perk up, and the nosy general turns to the two of you. "What display? What did I miss?" He leans down and speaks not-so-lowly into his mate's ear. "Is she finally relaxing? The both of you are way too boring for my taste right now." You feel heat burning up the sides of your neck and flooding onto your cheeks. Maybe your nervousness was coming off a bit standoffish, but you hated to think it was affecting anyone else's evening.

Cassian flags down a waitress and points between you and Nesta. "Excuse me miss, these two need to catch up. Get me two of something good and strong, please." He looks to you and wiggles his eyebrows "Add it to the High Lord's tab."

You begin to protest, looking apologetically to the waitress. "Oh, no thats okay, you really don't have to--"

"--add it..." Cassian insists, "to the High Lord's tab." The waitress smiles and nods, walking away to input the order. Cassian winks at you, smiling warmly. "You're sitting with the big boys now, sweets, no need to shy away from it. Rhys has money coming out of his ass, might as well put it to good use."

Rhys hears his name coming from his intoxicated brother and also turns his attention to you, violet eyes dancing with the same wicked amusement that often adorns Nesta's gaze.

"Ease off Cas," he chides, "I'm not that rich." The High Lord of the Night Court smirks. "Relax, Y/N, I'm not worried about what you spend on my account tonight. Or any night, for that matter. You're doing us all a massive favor, it's the least I can do."

You breath a sigh of relief and smile gently at him, and he returns it before looking back over to Feyre and Amren. Perhaps things were grey now, but maybe with enough time they could sort themselves out. Maybe you could actually find yourself settling into the rhythm of this group. As you feel yourself ease up, the waitress comes back with two bubbling cocktails.

A pair of hazel eyes train intently on you from the opposite end of the booth, marking your conversation and body language with acute awareness. Your timing was too coincidental. He had an odd feeling about you, one that his shadows seemed to enjoy egging on with their consistent pleas.

Need to know more. Let us learn more.

Azriel took a sip of his scotch, gaze still locked onto your form and only half listening to the tipsy giggling of his friends around him.